#janice hung

[voktapi]

[ladykailitha]

Can Anybody See Me? Part 10

Hey...you know how I said I had another fic I was working on that I planned on putting up the first part for today? Yeah...that didn’t work out. It needed a lot of heavy editing and because this got finished today with only minor edits, you get this instead.

Also...I realized that until this part...I never mentioned the name of the musical they’re doing. Ooops!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

*

To say Steve was nervous as hell would be an understatement. He had been in drama less than a month and now he was standing on the stage watching people mill around. And there was a lot of people. People who were taking measurements for costumes. Makeup and wigs people. Apparently kids from orchestra and band were going to be playing the music in the ‘pit’. Then there were people working on sets and up in the rafters checking the lights.

He had been to couple of plays on Broadway when he was younger. Of course he had. But he never knew how much went into making it look like magic when he was sitting in the audience.

A girl came up to him and squeezed his elbow.

“You’re Steve Harrington, right?” she asked.

Steve nodded, tongue tied from the sheer panic running through his body.

“I’m Janice Montgomery,” she said gently. “You’re friends with Gareth and them?”

Steve nodded again. “You must be the badass chick of the Hellfire Club.”

Janice grinned. “Oh good, you have heard of me.”

“A middle schooler I babysit for’s younger sister looves D&D so I try to talk you up as much as possible to piss her brother off,” he explained with a grin.

She laughed out loud. “Thanks. But I understand that this is your first time doing a play?”

“Acting in front of other people full stop,” Steve said, nodding.

Her eyes went wide and she tilted her head forward. “Please tell me you at least did the school play in elementary about the benefits of healthy eating.”

Steve scratched his face nervously. “Uh...that would be a no.”

“Fuck.”

Steve hung his head. “I really shouldn’t be here.”

She shoved his arm. “Miss Lucy isn’t the type of teacher to play favorites. Thomson isn’t a large role with a lot of blocking. Mostly standing in front of everyone else reading and being annoyed.”

Steve laughed. “I could do that, yeah.”

“See? You’ll do fine. You’ll dance for the major numbers, and then that heart-wrenching scene at the end.”

“Yeah, I auditioned with that scene, because it has both the singing and the acting in it.”

“Wow,” Janice said. “That’s impressive.”

Steve blushed. “Another middle schooler I babysit is in the drama club and asked him for pointers.”

“Well at least you know how to strategize,” she said. “Marty and I will help walk you through it. If have any questions come to either of us, okay?”

He nodded. “Thanks for this.”

The spot light lit them up and they both squealed from the sudden brightness.

Janice held up her hand over her eyes and screamed, “Eddie!”

Steve heard him cackle before the brightness was severely toned down.  And then Eddie dropped down in front of them, landing deftly on the stage.

“Mr Munson!” Miss Lucy called out. “I appreciate your grace as much as the next person, but one day you will break straight through this old stage and the school will not replace it.”

“Harsh, Miss Lucy!” he called back.

She chuckled darkly and went back to her notes.

“That was cool,” Steve murmured.

Eddie grinned. “She is right about the stage though. I don’t think they’ve redone it since it was put in god knows how long ago.”

Steve smiled.

Janice raised an eyebrow and then cleared her throat.

Eddie turned to her. “Congrats on getting Abby, Miss Montgomery.”

“I just can’t believe Tammy Thompson got Martha Jefferson,” Janice complained.

“I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of hearing her,” Steve said.

“You’ll hear her a lot,” Eddie said. “She has a song in the second act.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I’m sure it’ll be great.”

Eddie and Janice just stared at him.

“Or not...”

They burst out laughing.

“Hey, guys!” Marty said jogging up to them.

Everyone returned greetings of their own.

“So...I found out how Tammy got the part...” he said with a grimace.

“Oh no...” Eddie said. “This can’t be good.”

“Her mom is a seamstress and has offered to make all the costumes for free as well rent the wigs for a low price.”

Janice stamped her foot angrily. “With an offer like that I’m surprised she didn’t gun for my role.”

Steve looked between them confused. “I don’t understand.”

“Have you not seen 1776?” Marty asked.

Eddie and Janice turned to him and stared at him as though he had grown an extra head.

“Um...” Steve stammered, “well...I’ve been meaning to and I just haven’t got around to it, yet.” He scratched his cheek nervously.

“You mean to tell us,” Eddie said slowly, “that not only did you try out for a play you haven’t seen, you managed to get a fairly major roll for said play?”

Steve nodded, blushing a deep red.

“That’s it!” Marty cried. “You coming over to my house and we are watching it!”

Steve frowned. “How are we going to do that? I didn’t know they put plays on VHS.”

Marty clapped his shoulder. “You are in luck my friend because they did movie several years ago.”

“I guess...” Steve said shyly. “I’ll come over on one condition.”

Janice and Marty exchanged a knowing glance.

“What would that be?” Janice asked innocently.

“If Eddie comes too?” Steve bit the bottom of his lip and looked up at Eddie through his eyelashes.

Eddie blinked. “As long as it not on a Hellfire night, I’m down.”

Steve smiled softly.

“Is tonight good?” Marty asked.

Janice shook her head. “I work tonight.”

Steve shifted back and forth on his feet. “We could do it tomorrow at my place. My parents aren’t home and I have a big screen TV.”

“Sold!” Marty said.

“Yeah, man,” Eddie said rocking back on his heels. “That sounds cool.”

“I’ll bring the tape, Marty will provide drinks and Eddie the popcorn,” Janice said.

Steve looked uncomfortable. “You don’t have bring anything I’m sure I’ve plenty of stuff.”

Eddie wagged his finger at him. “Ah, ah, ah, Harrington. That’s not how movie nights work. Host merely hosts. Everyone else provides.”

Steve blushed. “Yeah, okay. Then you guys can explain the Tammy Thompson drama.”

Marty clapped his hands together and rubbed them. “It’s is sooo good.”

Steve just laughed.

“All right everyone!” Miss Lucy said. “It’s time for the read through. Mr Kincade, Mr Munson if you wouldn’t mind helping set up chairs?”

Marty and Eddie nodded. They gathered up as much seating as they could find. Those that didn’t have any lines sat in the audience around Miss Lucy, Mrs Lawson the dance teacher, and Mr Dent the choir teacher.

Steve pulled out his script and waited for his first line.

Eddie sat in the audience and Marty flopped down next to him.

“You’ve got it bad,” he said, nudging Eddie with his elbow. “He know about your proclivities toward members of your own sex?”

Eddie winced. “Tommy called me a fag often enough, but no. I don’t think he knows.”

Marty patted him on the shoulder. “You probably should tell him.”

*

Everyone showed up at Steve’s house around seven. Marty having picked Eddie and Janice up.

“I got some candy anyway,” Steve said as he led the way to the front room.

Marty and Eddie just shook their heads.

Janice rolled her eyes but they wisely said nothing. They all got set up and sprawled out on the couches.

Steve hit play and lost himself in the music. He laughed at the funny bits swooned when he supposed to, and got teary eyed at “Mamma, Look Sharp.”

“You clearly enjoyed that,” Marty said.

“It was good,” Steve said. “Not very historically accurate, though, right?”

Eddie grinned. “Nope. Barely even close. But it’s fun and over the top.”

“It certainly is that,” Steve chuckled.

“Okay,” Janice said rubbing her hands together manically. “Who’s hotter: Thomas Jefferson or Lyman Hall?”

Eddie tapped his finger on his lips. “Jefferson. Love the lighter hair and tall.”

Marty crowed. “Red heads are hot, but gotta give it to my man, Lyman Hall. When he slams Georgia’s vote to yay...mhmmm...that’s some good shit.”

Steve frowned. “You’re both wrong.” All heads turned to him in shock. “Charles Thomson and not just because that’s who I’m playing.”

“You think Thomson is better looking than Hall?” Marty asked, dismayed. “You can’t mean that.”

Steve shrugged. “Hall’s good looking, sure. Soft spoken, too. But there is just something about how the actor portrayed Thomson that just brought this strength that Hall didn’t have.”

Steve blushed. “Plus Jefferson is married and I don’t look at taken people. No matter how hot they are.”

Eddie leaned forward and put his fingers to his lips. “Steve, I need to you to be honest with us. We aren’t going to judge or flip out but...do you like like boys?”

Steve blinked. “I never really thought about it. I thought it was normal to talk about how attractive other dudes are. Me and Tommy did it all the time.”

Marty and Eddie shared a concerned glance.

Janice shook her head. ‘That’s not something straight boys do.”

“Then why were you asking us about who was more attractive?”

“Because we deemed you safe,” Marty said as if it was the simplest thing in the world, instead of the massive bomb it should have been. “I’m bisexual. I like both.”

“And I’m gay,” Eddie said bluntly, resting his elbows on his knees.

Steve blinked. “Oh. I’m not sure what I am, then.”

Janice put her hand his shoulder. “Hey, you don’t have to figure it out right away, Steve. I didn’t mean to make question your identity.”

“Just don’t freak out, man,” Marty said. “I don’t think I’m equipped to deal with water works.”

Steve cocked his head. “I mean, I guess. But there’s no reason to freak out about it. Yeah, I’ve used fag and queer as insults and that’s not good. Obviously. But finding out I like boys? Not as earth shattering as I thought it would be.”

“And you don’t mind us being queer?” Eddie asked.

Steve frowned. “No. And I understand your concern. But no. Of course not.”

Eddie nodded and then sat back.

“So you thought Tammy would want to be Abigail instead of Martha?” Steve asked Janice. “Because it’s the bigger role?”

Janice flopped back against the cushions. “Exactly. Abby has more lines, more songs, more stage time in general.”

Steve let out a chuckle. “Then you don’t know Tammy.”

Marty and Eddie leaned in.

“Oh, do tell,” Marty pleaded.

“She would want the ‘pretty’ role,” Steve said. “Especially if she’s basing her idea of the roles on this movie. Virginia who played Abby is gorgeous, but in an understated, has had six kids and worked her whole life kind of way.”

“But Blythe Danner is just straight up hot,” Marty said.

Steve snapped his fingers. “Exactly. Tammy is just vain enough to want the Martha role even though it’s smaller...”

“Because she’s prettier than me?” Janice asked incredulously.

Steve laughed. “I didn’t say that. I said that Tammy thought that.”

“Mine!” Janice said throwing her arms around Steve possessively.

Eddie’s stomach rolled. He looked away so he didn’t see Steve blush and shift uncomfortably under her affection. But Marty did.

“Hey, quit hogging the guy,” he teased. “There’s enough Steve for everyone.”

Eddie looked back to see Steve gently push her off of him. “I’ve got a lot people who already have claimed that title, you’re gonna hafta stand in line.”

Janice and Marty looked at each other in confusion.

Eddie pursed his lips. “It’s the kids, right?”

Steve nodded, but Marty and Janice’s looks of confusion didn’t clear.

“Stevie here babysits,” Eddie said grinning from ear to ear.

Steve laughed. “At least that’s what I call it so people don’t freak out. So until Eddie took me under his wing, most of my friends were thirteen year olds.”

“I take in lost sheep,” Eddie said. “Never took in a senior before. Or a former popular kid, it’s been quite the eye opener.”

Steve blushed and ducked his head. “I’ve never been more grateful to see a person in my life then when I looked up and saw you that day in Mr Vinke’s class.”

Eddie shoved his hair in front of his face and looked away, this time for a more pleasant reason then before.

Marty and Janice looked over Steve’s head and grinned.

Part 11  Part 12 Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17 Part 18  Part 19  Part 20  Part 21

Tag List: @shrimply-a-menace @strangersteddierthings @throwbackthrowaway @novelnovella @cursedfoxteeth @babyblender @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steve-the-hairrington @winterbuckwild @spectrum-spectre @matchingbatbites @garden-of-gay @anaibis @thing-a-ling @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @artiststarme @sundead  @nelotegreitic @gregre369 @butterflysandpeppermint @thedragonsaunt @kodaik97 @messrs-weasley @scarletzgo @deadlydodos @renaissan-vvitch @evix-syne666 @emly03 @justforthedead89 @ashwinmeird @huniibee @phantypurple @stevesbipanic @shucks-yuckyuck @awkwardgravity1 @bookbinderbitch @reportinglivefromsoda @chasinggeese @be-the-spark-bitch @jinxjinn @kohlraedirectioner @cr0w-culture @xjessicafaithx @whimsicalwitchm @jaywhohasthegay @dangdirtydemons @lovelyscot  @howincrediblysapphicofyou @the-redthread

[omg-hellgirl]

I loved working with Patti Hansen. She was seeing Keith Richards, who hung out in back telling outrageous stories about Mick and Jerry Hall. He looked like an insect; no, he looked like an ad for chewing tobacco — with those hollowed-out cheeks and his evil teeth.

Janice Dickinson, No Lifeguard on Duty: The Accidental Life of the World's First Supermodel.

[more-cardigan-than-woman]

The Babysitter - Day 5 - Midnight / 8

Summary: You ran away and now you're at a club, what could possibly go wrong

Thief!Reader x The Red Hood

4.8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, semi public sex acts, chasing, minor primal kink, swearing, alcohol, chocking, slapping, canon typical violence.

AN: This chapter is split into night and day, as it starts at midnight and it was way too long.

Day 4

The metaphorical clock strikes midnight as you approach The Bunker. There is no line, no security, just one singular light hanging above a random steel door. To say this club was underground, well, it would be wrong. Sure, it’s called The Bunker, but that's mostly because the place is run by hench folks and they’re not exactly a creative bunch. You remember when you first asked Harley about it and she just rolled her eyes and sounded surprised that it was still open.

Shimming down the dress that you fished out of your go bag and very carefully changed into in the park restroom, you approach the club. Your eyes wander up and you notice the beam in the sky, he's out tonight. Which must be why everyone's here and not with their bosses causing mayhem.

You knock in sequence on the heavy door, surprised when a familiar face greets you. 

"Janice! Bestie! I didn't know you got a job here. I haven’t seen you in so long! What have you been up to? Aside from this sweet side gig? It must be good work? Do they pay well? Do you get to meet heaps of cool people?”

"It's Janelle," Janice says, looking wholly unimpressed to see you, she flips her long dark braid over her shoulder, seeming to type something into her tablet before rolling her eyes at you, "go in."

"We should catch up soon! It's been ages since we hung out!." 

"Not long enough." She mutters as you walk past her and walk down the long corridor towards the club.

With every step you hear the music grow louder, the lights grow brighter and you grow closer and closer to the party. "Good luck finding me here, Macho man." You mumble, stepping into the crowd and locating your first mark.

Xx

"Where are you going?" Jason thinks as he stares down at the little dot on his map, "there's nothing that side of crime alley, little trouble maker."

Revving his motorcycle he follows the dot, ending up at a random street. "Where are you?" He peers around noting the large apartment buildings above and garbage covering the alley way. "What the fuck?" He grips his phone so hard he can hear the screen crack as your dot vanishes, "she can't just fucking disappear."

Pacing back and forth he tries to think, his brain almost combusting before an idea springs to mind. Lucky for him the idiot answers in a second.

"Hey boss, wassup?"

"Jamie, you know any hangouts near park and renegade?"

"Just the bunker, heard they was having a party tonight."

"The bunker?"

"Yeah, it's the henchman hangout."

"The-"

"Henchman's hangout. Used to go there all the time. But you got me so busy these days while you're out, i-"

"How do I find it?"

"Got a light over the door, big steel one."

"Thanks Jamie, take the night off." He ends the calls before the man can keep talking.

He scans the alley again, noticing the single light hanging from a patio a bit further down. Jason bangs on the door with his fist and when it doesn't open he kicks that fucker down. 

"Mr Red Hood sir, I didn't realise.." Janelle says, "Sorry, we don't normally get-" 

The Red Hood walks right by the flustered woman, throwing her some money for the door before stalking his way down the hallway.

Xx

“What is this song?” you shout to Lark over the thrum of the music.

“No idea.” she smiles at you, “Behind you, Rolex.”

“Good spot,” your eyes flick back to the tall guy behind you, his brown hair flipping around as he attempts to dance, “cover me,” you say to Lark as she turns her back to watch from behind.

“Got you girl. Get us that bag.”

“Wow,” you turn, your hand landing on the man's big (though not as big as Red's) forearm, his cheap plasticky jacket seeming to stick to the palms of your hands, “Sorry,” you stare up at the man his dull hazel eyes not nearly as enchanting as the blue ones you’ve been thinking about all day, “Or not,” you wink as his hand slips down your arm.

“We dancing?” he asks, grabbing your hand to twirl you around and you let out a squeal. “You’re fun.” he pulls you closer “cute too,” you can smell how much he bathed in his cologne before coming out tonight, you can feel the bile creeping up your throat with every second. This closeness only makes you move faster before the stench makes you aspirate or puke.

“Yeah, let's dance.” you take his hand and let him hold it, while your fingers toy with the clasp on his watch. “Spin me again,” you laugh and as he does you flick the watch off his wrist and spin yourself into your dark haired friend. 

“Girl, you get it?” Lark catches you, wrapping her arm around your shoulder and spins so her back is covering the man's view of you.

“Happy Birthday Larkie, your gift,” you joke, slipping it onto her wrist and laughing when it fits perfectly.

“Best gift ever. Until the next one,” Lark links her arm through yours, winding you both through the crowd as whatever his name was tries to follow you both.

“Drinks?” 

“Yes, Des is serving those big fruity cocktails I love, I want at least four and you can tell me more about the Red Hood and why the fuck I haven’t seen you all week.”

You and Lark continue to drink, talk and steal. You almost forget that Reds on his way, that he promised to punish you for being bad, that he’s probably going to slap you again, maybe throw you over his shoulder like the man handling dickhead he is. Maybe he’ll snarl at you, pin you up against the wall and then just take-

“Yo! Your drifting off into the clouds again girlie.” Lark snaps her fingers in front of your face, “Earth calling, wanna come back down to me?”

“Yeah,” you shake your head, “I’m here, just thinking about-”

“Why don’t you go splash your face.” Lark offers, tilting her head towards the bathroom, “Someones watching us.”

“I can’t see anyone, but I trust you. Be back in a sec.” you push your way through the crowd, your eyes searching for any sign of the Red Hood. You don’t see him or anyone really, just a bunch of faceless swaying beings that form the dance floor and the wooden door that leads into the bathroom.

Shoving your way inside you tip your head over the graffiti covered sink and splash some of the water over your face, careful not to get any in your mouth. It’s probably safe, but probably isn't definitely and with Scarecrow out of Arkham anything is possible.

"G'day petal," a deep voice startles as it storms from one of the stalls, "gunna need me boom back,"

"You what?" You lift on your toes and take a step back, planting your feet on the ground.

"I know you took my boomerang, petal."

"For once you're wrong, Boomer."

"Yeah, nah. Ain’t got your little boyfriend to keep me away this time."

"Who?" You push at him and when he doesn't budge you reach behind you, gripping at the gun tucked into your pocket.

"Who says he's my boyfriend?" You lift up as your hand grips the handle.

"Everyone, I talked to." 

"Wrong again." You pull the gun out pointing it under his chin, "how does it feel to be so wrong so often, Boomer?"

"Feels pretty nice from here," he grinds his hips into you and you click the trigger, "Petal forgot her bullets," he tuts at you, "silly girl."

"Don't need em," you smirk, reaching the gun back and colliding It with his head, a loud smack echoes in the small room and he's on the floor, "now for my prize," flipping his jacket open you take one of the boomerangs, easily tucking it into your pocket with the rest of your loot.

"What's with the gun?" Lark asks, her eyes shifting to the passed out Boomer on the bathroom floor, “I see, we should go.” she wraps an arm around you and hurries you into the crowd on the dancefloor.

“I wasn’t taking that long,” you shout into her ear.

“No, I came to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“Your guy.”

“My what?”

“The Red Hood.”

“What about him?”

“He’s here.”

XX

Jason's helmet scans the room, instantly spotting you cozied up to some random woman. Eyes turn to him, but he ignores them as he sinks into the shadows of the club. 

He watches you for a while, the tiny echo of your voice ringing across the large room. His eyes drift up your legs, stopping at the short hemline of your skirt and the heaviness of your pockets. Jason enjoys seeing you take and take and take from those around you, seemingly gifting this woman with the dark hair with some of your takings. The both of you dance and laugh together, seeming to work together to scam those around you and he can’t help the jealousy of how free you seem to be with her seep into his trigger finger. You’re spinning and free and the way you cling to her, it’s taking all his control not to march over, pick you up and drag you out of here. 

You dodge someone before your pretty eyes dart around the room quickly, seeming to pause in Jason's hiding place in the shadows before moving across and then suddenly you're moving, charging off towards the bathroom.

Now is his chance, he thinks, stepping into the light when the whole crowd turns to him and he feels the need to sink back into the darkness. But it’s almost too late, he can see that dark haired woman coming towards him, a look of anger and vengeance on her face. Fuck, had you told her about him? What did you say for her to be acting like this? He moves, circling around the room until there is a dance floor of people between them. Jason was too busy trying to put distance between him and this woman and her cheap leather outfit. He lost track, you went into the bathroom, he thinks, then, where did you go? He looks over the crowd but he can’t see you, can’t even see the other woman, only the crowd and the lights.

He scans for you on his helmet again and you pop up almost immediately, your body moving freely as you dance with the woman in the crowd and he can’t help the step he takes forward. Like his brain has left the building and now something else is creeping its way into his head.

“What is that?” you ask Lark, your neck twitching to the side.

“Umm, Girl.”

“It’s like an itch, but it’s inside my skin.” you reach back trying to scratch it.

“Girl,” she spins you around and you let out a gasp as the Red Hood stomps towards you, the crowd seeming to part for him as he, can a step be angry? Its like his anger is seeping from his fucking suit. It's a very pretty suit, especially with all the bright lights of the club shining off his helmet.

“Love you Larkie, but I-”

“You gotta go.” she squeezes your hand, “take the back door and don't forget to have fun!” she calls to you as you take off, squishing and squirming your way through the dancers. You throw a glance over your shoulder and can see him getting closer as you move towards the back of the club and the back door. Your heart thrums in your chest, pumping in your ears while your feet struggle to stay steading on your heels.

“Stop following me.” you call, but are pretty sure it's lost in the noise of the club. Picking up the pace you kick your heels off, leaving them behind so you can run faster. You dart around the corner near the bathroom and a hand snakes out grabbing your arm.

“Where you off to now Petal?”

“Don’t have time for this Boomer.”

“Make time,” he points his boomerang at your stomach, pulling it back. Fast as you can you wrap your hand around it, flipping yourself backwards and yanking it from his hand. You spin, throwing the object in the direction of the Red Hood and flee as fast as you can. Boomer is so taken aback that he doesn't say a word, just stares, his hand held up for when his weapon will return to him.

A loud thud rings down the hall and you turn back only to see Boomer on the ground again as the Red Hood steps over his body. His hand reaching down for the gun on his leg. Fuck, how is he getting closer? Are you moving slower?

Turning back around you make a fast dash for the door, the heavy clang of the Red Hoods boots ringing in your ears almost as hard as your breaths are coming out. The door! It’s right there, you're a step, maybe two from it when a strong hand wraps around your wrist and you can’t hold the scream of surprise in.

“Thought you’d give more of a fight, little trouble maker.” Reds robot voice growls into your ear.

“Well, I do hate to disappoint,” you stomp down on his foot, forgetting that you're in bare feet and wince when the steel cap of his boots dig into the arch of your foot, “Ow.” you cry, jabbing your elbow into the hard armor on his stomach, “Why is everything always so hard with you?” you wiggle trying to escape his grasp. 

“So that little brats can’t beat me up.” he holds you a little tighter, the leather of his gloves biting into your skin. The smell of your sweaty perfume barely registers under his helmet, but fuck if he can’t feel your cute little ass wiggling into his cock. Biting down on his lip he tries to maintain some control, to not just press your smart ass little face into the wall and take you right here. His cock throbs when you try to hit him again, making that sweet whiney noise. Shit, he needs, what does he need- “I wanna watch you run a bit more,” his grip starts to loosen, even though he wants nothing more to hold you so fucking close, “ready?”

“To run from you? Always.”

“Good girl.” he releases you and you take off immediately running for the door, your sweaty hands siding off the handle and you giggle when you spot him watching you, unable to keep the excitement of what the fuck is happening inside you. The words, his words, that he keeps saying that somehow makes your insides melt and your legs feel tingly, “You won’t be laughing when I catch you this time.” he threatens, cracking his knuckles at you. But he hasn’t moved yet, he’s watching you from his perch on the wall.

“Fuck you!” you shout back when you finally get the door open and sprint onto the street. You smile to yourself as you hear the thud of his boots coming from behind you, “Fucking asshole!” you bolt down the alley, the stones on the tarmac digging into your feet, but you can’t stop. Even if you’re having fun, enjoying the thought of him chasing you oh so slowly and what he might possibly do when he catches up to you, “You’re so fucking slow!” you shout, turning around to see the alleyway empty, only the trash drifting down and the graffitied walls closing in on you.

Where did he go? He was right behind you a second ago. You turn towards the other end of the alley and can only see the soft glow of the street lights shining. Shit, where could he have gone? Did he give up? You think smugly, turning back down the alley which will lead to a quicker route home. “Fucking idiot, I told him I was faster.”

“But I’m smarter.” The Red Hood grasps your arm, yanking you into a covered alcove and closing your body into his hard armor. A deep breathe rushes from Jason's chest as you bump into him, he probably pulled your with more force than he needed to, but seeing that fucking smile on your face is worth it.

“Guess you caught me.” you beam up at him. He feels his cock straining against his pants at your closeness. If seeing you in the small dress, stealing from those assholes hadn’t excited him. Then watching your ass giggle and your laughter ring in the air as he chased you certainly did. “So what are you going to do with me, now that you've caught me?” you tease him, your hand reaching up towards his helmet and he catches your wrist in his hand.

“What do you think, trouble maker?”

“What do I think? Now he wants to know. Well, Where do I start? I think you’re mean, I think my feet are fucking sore from running on the bare street, I think I don't even know your fucking name and I think that you didn’t even care to come looking for me.”

“How many times is that now?”

“Times what? Because seriously, youre sending some mixed fucking signals here and I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you or your little brain but as fun as it can be, I need some fucking clarity here Red, because I’m fucking confused.”

“Nine.” Jason adds in his head, using his grip on your wrist to spin you around and press you into the wall, “I told you not to swear at me. It’s about time you got some punishment.” he lifts the skirt of your dress, impressed by how heavy the pockets seem to be he tries to ignore it, “Bad mouth brats, need to learn their place.” he slaps his hand onto your ass gentler than he wants to, his fingers kneading at your soft panties. “8 more to go, trouble maker. And for every noise you make I'm going to add one more.” he slaps you again and you can’t keep the little yip that escapes you. He keeps going “7, I’m sending mixed signals,” he leans over to threaten close to your ear, “6, you ran away from me,” his thumb grazes over your ass, “5, you keep being bad,” his long gloved fingers graze over the wet spot in your panties, “4, but I know you want to be good for me,” he flicks your panties to the side before slapping right over your clit, “3, you like to torture me, don’t you?” You let out a hungry moan, your ass presses back into his hand and Jason can’t help the way his dick throbs. “3 more,” he wraps a hand around your mouth, holding it closed, “I think this is torturing you more than me.”

You mumble into his glove, the leather scent filling your nose, his hand tightens on your face. You can feel yourself dripping down your thigh from all those delicious slaps moving from your ass to your clit and those strong fingers on you and his thighs closing you in.

“1 more little trouble maker. Can you take it?” you nod, sticking your ass out even further and wiggling it for him, “This is a punishment, act like it” he scorns you. You wiggle more, biting down on his fingers, and he moans at the feeling of your teeth gripping his finger, “Better.”

His strong hand slaps on your ass and your scream into his fingers, way too exaggerated but Red seems to love it. His fingers massage into your tender skin, his hand gripping tight on your face, “Quiet,” he commands you as his fingers slide through the sopping mess of your pussy, “Quiet or I will stop.”

“Ah, huh.” you mumble into the glove as his fingers press into you. The leather cold on the inside of your pussy, his helmet cold on the side of your face. But fuck, those fingers, he toys with you. Slowly moving in and out, swirling around inside of you and pumping up into your g spot. You almost lose your mind when his thumb grazes up and starts to circle your clit. Your hips thrusting back into him as you grind down on those thick fingers. 

“You’re little cunt is so tight on my fingers,” the red hood pumps into you faster, “you like it like this trouble maker?” he pushes another finger in, while his thumb continues its ministrations on your clit, “I can tell that you do, you’re fucking clinging to me.” his hand moves from your mouth to cup at your breast as his body pushes you closer to the wall, “I wanna hear you cum, trouble maker,”

“Quietly?”

“Yeah, can you do that for me?”

“I- ahhh,” you bite down on your bottom lip, “I’ll try,”

“Good girl.” you fall apart at his words, your hold body shaking into the brick wall, your pussy sucking his fingers deeper and deeper inside you. Your teeth biting so hard into your lip you think you might be bleeding as your panting breaths escape from the corner of your lips. Red keeps a hold of you, his whole body seeming to keep you up while you come apart around him.

“Red, I ah-” you shiver as your body starts to relax again and he pulls his fingers from within you.

Jason spins you back around, pressing your ass into the cool concrete wall by the throat, the chill seeming to soothe the soreness and ache in your muscles, “Hello trouble maker,” he titles that shiny helmet to the side, lifting his fingers up and under the helmet so he can taste you, “How was your day?” he asks so casually that it throws you for a second.

“Really great,” you smile sarcastically into the lit up eyes of the helmet, “No one told me what to do, or threw me around.”

“Or made you cum so hard you shook, sounds boring.” his fingers grip tighter on your throat, his knees pushing your legs further apart. Shit, he’s losing control. Like he can't seem to stop, like that tiny taste of you and watching you fall apart on his fingers cracked a hole in his skull, “I had a boring day too, some dumb brat left me to entertain myself.”

“Poor you.”

“Want to make it up to me?

“Isn’t that what the punishment was?”

“No, because I don't think you learned your lesson yet, trouble maker.” he pulls off his jacket, throwing it on the ground before him, pushing you to your knees. Trying not to be impressed at how quickly you’ve bounced back after he made you cum so hard, “You going to do as you're told?”

“No.” you stare up at him defiantly.

“Do you want me to make you?” his finger twine through your hair, yanking your head back.

“Is this suppose to be intimidating? Because honestly that little kid in the tights is scarier than you.” His other hand slaps across your face and your sensitive pussy tingles in your panties.

“If you want me to stop, I need you to tell me. Just hit me in the leg or something,” he says so softly that you’re almost confused by it, but you understand. This game, or whatever weird ass fuck thing you two are doing, he wants reassurance that you’re playing too. “I need you to nod or shake your head, if this is too far-” he pauses, caressing your face,”-I can just take you home and rub some oil into your feet.”

You stare up at his helmet, your hands resting on his thighs as your nails bite into the hard metal covers, your smile maybe a little bit evil, “Fuck you,” you spit at his chest.

“My little trouble maker,” his fingers tighten in your hair as his other hand works fast to pull his cock from his pants, “Open your mouth,” he orders you and your lips open with seemingly a mind of their own, “Good, stick out your tongue,” he bounces his cock on your tongue and you can’t help the way you start to squirm at the taste of him on your tongue, “Sit still.” he thrusts forward pressing his cock further into your mouth, “Close that loud mouth,” you suck at him, your tongue pressing up into the thick vein that runs along the bottom of his cock, “Do a good job and I’ll give you a reward,” this spurs you on, thinking of how good his fingers felt inside you. You eagerly bob your head and your fingers press into his thighs, your tongue swirling around his cock as moans bubble up your throat and vibrate around him, “finally something that mouth is good for,” he releases your hair, his hand moving down to support your neck, “at your own pace, trouble maker,” he moans, trying his best to keep himself still and not fuck down into your throat, “yeah, like that,” his head flings back with the weight of the helmet, “You feel amazing, so hot and wet.”

You make a movement with your hands, your finger traveling from your chin to your head, while you keep on sucking and licking at him, “Off?” he asks a little breathless, you give him the tiniest nod, trying not to lose the grip your lips have on his cock. “Stop for a second,” his hand leaves your neck and his cock falls from your lips and you suck in a harsh breath.

Relaxing back on your thighs you stare up at him in awe, his huge cock hanging between his armored legs. He lifts the helmet off, his hair shiny dark curls fall perfectly over his face, he drops the helmet to the ground, his fingers brush the hairs from your face as his sharp jawline tilts down at you and a red domino mask stares back at you.

“I knew it! Two masks!” you exclaim, a second before he shoves his cock back in your mouth.

“I was such a close trouble maker, why don't you be a good girl and make me feel good and then I’ll think about rewarding you.” you hungrily suck his cock, your pussy fucking soaking the ground beneath you as you bring him closer and closer to finishing. The whites of the domino mask stare at you while his hair clings to his sweaty face. His moans grow rougher and more animalistic as he gets closer and closer. Your teeth scrape along his length and that seems to be the thing that sends him over the edge, his salty, tangy cum paints the inside of your mouth and you swallow it down like bridesmaids drinking prosecco at a bachelorette party. His soft panting fills in your ears as his hands gently brush along your cheek.

His cock falls from your lips as he leans into the wall behind you. His eyes still take you in as he rests his head on the cold concrete, his chest heaving, his breath spot but his hand still on your face. You meet his eyes as you gather some of his cum that fell from your mouth on your fingers and lick at it, moaning around your fingers in the same way he had earlier.

“You did so well for me,” he coos, lightly slipping his forearm under yours and helping you off the ground. He picks up his helmet, “Can you hold this?” he asks in a voice so devoid of the earlier animal it surprises you, “I’m going I take you home and I can look at those feet.”

“My feet? What about my pussy?”

“If you can behave long enough.” he picks you up, sliding an arm under your legs, “Remember when I told you how loud I can make bratty little trouble makers.”

“Not true until you prove it.”

“Then I guess I better prove it,” he winks, capturing your lips in a desperate, hungry kiss, “But only if you’re a good girl, think you can do it?”

“I can only try my best.” you snuggle into his chest, holding the helmet on your tummy as he carries you home.

Day 5 - 7 am

Taglist:

@letmebebatmanpls @hypnobanditprofessorhorse-blog

@nutmeg030 @igotanidea @tild3ath @halbhohehalluzination

@goblinhobo @efam @princessbl0ss0m @bubbles-incorrect-yb

@ilikw @megumisbabymomma @mxtokko @viperbaroness

[hockybish]

Dance it Out

l au with no name l matt x posey l masterlist l

Summer 2010

"Matt, how much longer do I have to do this?" Posey stood up from her crouched over position. She had on some goalie gear they had found and was standing in front of a makeshift goal while Matt shot pucks at her.

“I gotta practice against a goalie, Posey. And you’re doing a really good job of standing there.” Matt squared up, ready to shoot another puck in her direction.

His coach really did say he did need more practice shooting with a goalie in the net versus an open net.

And Posey got to choose what they did last time she was over, so it was his turn and he chose to practice hockey. He always did what she wanted so she had to do the same for him.

“But I want to dance” she got in her stance. They had been at this for an hour and she was getting bored and didn’t want to do this anymore.

“We did that yesterday” Matt stuck his tongue out in concentration. He hit the chunk of plastic, it flew up and hit Posey in padding on her right leg. She kicked it back in his direction and got ready again.

“Please Matt?” Posey begged. The puck he just hit whizzed past her shoulder. She very unfazed by it. She had six brothers, five of whom played hockey, she was used to it.

“Fine five more shots and I get to pick the music” Posey shook head, making the mask she was wearing jiggle, agreeing to the deal.

Matt took more than five shots since Posey wasn’t really paying attention now that she was getting her way.

Once she was out of the gear, Posey brought out her new iPod nano and hooked it up to the speaker. She handed it over to Matt, he scrolled through, finding the playlist they were dancing to yesterday.

The way they were dancing it looked something out of peanuts. There was no real structure and it was all fun. Or at least that's what Matt's mom thought when looked in on them after she got done with her phone call. She turned off their music, abruptly ending the dance party.

“Matt honey can you please for find your sisters? I need to talk to Posey for a minute.” Janice instructed.

Matt and Posey looked at each other and back at his mother. She had this look on her face, and they knew she was being serious.

The boy hung his head and scurried out of the room. What was going on? Posey couldn’t help but feeling like she had done something wrong and they were going to send her home or to her grandma's.

"Posey darling, I have something very important I need to tell you okay? Let's sit on the couch here." Janice sat down on the sofa. She patted the spot next to her, waiting for Posey to climb up.

"Sweetie, your mommy and daddy were in an accident. And they unfortunately didn't make it. I'm really sorry."

"What?" Posey tilted her head confused. Her mommy and daddy were at work and were going to pick her up later, like they always did.

"Mariposa your parents died. I'm really sorry, sweetheart." The mother of three, repeated herself a bit more directly this time. There was no easy way to put it. She wrapped her arms around the stunned child.

"No! No! My mommy and daddy are not dead!" Posey screamed. She pushed Janice away, running out of the room and into the first room she could find with a door.

She yelled no one last time before she slammed it closed. The little girl then curled up in a ball and started crying. She just wanted to be alone.

-

“Hey Posey?” Matt knocked on her door.

It had been a month since her and her brothers had moved in with his family and he had been trying every single day to get her to play, but she never wanted to. Possibly today could be different.

“Do you maybe want to play?” He posed the same question. There was no response to his question. "You can shoot pucks at me, or maybe we can color."

"Can we dance?" Posey asked quietly.

"Only if I can I pick the music." He smiled jokingly.

[the--blackdahlia]

Split Chapter 1

Split Chapter 1

Summary: Lucy Blair met FBI Agent Scott Hall one fateful day at her work. After hitting it off, pretty quickly, Lucy and Scott fell in love. But then Lucy meets Razor Ramon. Is Scott undercover? Or is something more at play, something that will drag her into a dangerous world of the war of drug lords in 1980's Florida?

Warnings: Language, violence, drug use, more to be added as the fic goes on

AN: Hey guys! I'm testing the waters with this one. Please let me know what you think!

The sun was slowly covering Florida when Lucy Blair finally decided it was time to get out of bed. Somedays, it still threw her for a loop, hearing the sounds of the coast when she was used to farmland for as far as the eye could see. It was her day off, and she hadn’t planned on getting up early, but here she was. That’s when the ringing of the phone told her why she had been woken up at her normal wake-up time. Just ignore it and it will go away. She thought to herself. But eventually, that phone grated on her nerves. With a groan, she rolled over and snagged the phone.

“Somebody better be dead, or something’s on fire?” Lucy mumbled as she answered the phone.

“Well, no death. But Lori is bringing life into the world early,” Dr. Carol Pierce, Lucy’s boss, was on the other end of the line. Lucy groaned a little. Why didn’t she just let the machine get it?

“Carol, it’s my day off…”

“I know, I know. And I’m really sorry, but Lori went on maternity leave early, and Kelly has school today. Please?” Lucy signed and threw the blankets off of her. It was such a beautiful day in Clearwater, and Lucy had wanted to spend her day at the beach. “What if I buy you lunch?”

“Anything I want?”

“Anything you want. I promise. And you can have Monday off. Kelly doesn’t have school.”

“Okay. Fine. I’ll be in.”

“Lucy, I owe you big time. You are a lifesaver.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Lucy laughed. “See you in a few.”

Lucy hung up the phone and stared at the ceiling. Why didn’t she just screen her calls? She finally got up and got ready, pulling on her uniform before heading out to her Jeep. The sun was going to mock her today, but something in the air felt like there was a change coming.

****

Lucy walked into the office, smiling at her friend Janice as she settled down behind the receptionist's desk. Janice was looking over a chart for the first patient of the day.

“Can’t believe they dragged you in here,” Janice laughed.

“Carol promised me lunch,” Lucy settled in her chair. “Been busy yet?”

“Nope. Strangely quiet. Which means we’ll get hit hard.”

“Lucy, you are a saint,” Carol came from the back of the office.

“Remember that when raise time comes around,” Lucy gave her a cheeky grin.

“I will, believe me,” Carol looked at her watch. “There is a detective that is going to be stopping by sometime this morning. When he gets here, let me know. I need to talk to him about the files I’m giving him.”

“Aye aye Captain,” Lucy saluted. Carol rolled her eyes, but smiled before she headed back into her office. Janice leaned against the receptionist's desk.

“Did you hear what happened?” She asked.

“No, what?” “Girl, you’ve got to start watching the news,” Janice laughed as she sat down the file she was holding. “I guess there was an explosion in the USSR. In the Ukraine area.” “Yeah? I mean, we have been at war with them since before I was born.” “I don’t think it was us. The explosion was at a nuclear power plant. Like, they had to evacuate a whole city and everything. And the Reds are actually admitting to it, so you know it’s bad.”

“Nuclear power. It’s a brilliant device. Too bad we’re all too stupid to know how to properly use it.” Lucy picked up the handset on her phone to untangle the cord. Lori always left it tangled when she left for the day, and Lucy was convinced she did it just to annoy her. “And just so you know, I do watch the news sometimes.” “MTV news doesn’t count,” Janice shook her head. “Okay, yes, I mainly watch MTV. But, I did hear about rich kid from Canada.” “Oh yeah! The Hart kid. Dad is like, what, a Prime Minister or something, right?”

“Hell if I know. I just know that one of the kids, Bret I think, got arrested for streaking during the President’s speech a few years ago. At the reflecting pool.”

“God, I should really get into politics.” Janice sighed dreamily, thinking of watching a drunk Canadian running through the shallow water buck naked.

“They tried to say he was protesting to get disarmament. But just like, based on the mugshot, I really think he was just drunk as fuck.” “Sometimes drunk idiots are political. That’s why our country is the pits at times,” Janice watched Lucy get her work computer set up. Lucy had helped Carol upgrade her office, starting to move towards a digital world where there would be no need for all the paper they went through. “You know, I think you’re wasting your talents trying to go to nursing school. Take it from me, a nurse.” “What do you mean?”

“Lucy, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but you are a nerd,” Janice gave her a smile. “And you should embrace the nerdiness and go work for Apple or something. While the medical field would love to have you, I think you could do great things on the tech end.”

“Well if you ask my mother, I should be married with at least one kid by now.”

That’s when the door chimed, signaling someone had come in. Lucy and Janice looked up, both shocked as they saw a man in a suit walk in.

“Is that Tom Selleck?” Janice whispered. The man flashed both ladies a smile, but his eyes seemed drawn to Lucy.

“Hey there,” He said, leaning on the counter in front of Lucy. “I’m Agent Scott Hall.” He pulled out his badge to show her, but she couldn’t stop staring at him. A gorgeous smile nestled under a thick mustache, thick brown hair that curled and framed his head, and piercing deep brown eyes and Lucy swore looked right into her soul. Thankfully, Janice pulled her attention back to the here-and-now.

“Oh, yes. I’ll let Dr. Pierce know you’re here,” Lucy could feel that her cheeks were pink as she picked up the phone and called back to Carol. “Dr. Pierce, your appointment is here.” Lucy was trying to sound as professional as she could in front of the agent. “She’ll be here shortly.” “Thanks, uh…” “Lucy! I mean, uh, my name’s Lucy.” “Nice to meet you, Lucy.” The smile that he gave her made her heart race. She felt like a teenager meeting her celebrity crush. Thankfully, she didn’t have to talk anymore, because Carol came to save the day. He gave Lucy a wink as he followed Carol back to her office, allowing Lucy to finally breathe.

***

“Thanks for meeting with me Dr. Pierce,” Scott settled down in the chair across from Carol’s.

“Please, call me Carol,” She opened her filing cabinet and pulled four files out of the cabinet. “I’m just glad I can maybe help with this drug problem. It’s getting really bad.”

“So these are the autopsy files, right?” Scott picked up the stack of files Carol had set on her desk.

“Yeah. Three were strictly drug overdoses that stand out among the others we’ve had. The fourth died of a gunshot wound to the gut but also had high amounts of drugs in their system.”

“This looks different than the stuff we’ve been seeing in the lab,” Scott commented, flipping through the pages.

“It’s different than I’ve seen before,” Carol commented. “I almost feel like it’s a new type of cocaine. It’s not quite crack, but it sure as hell isn’t what we’re used to seeing. More and more of these cases popping up not just in Pinellas County, but all over Florida.” “It’s not just Florida, but we think that it’s originating from here.” Scott closed the files. “Are these my copies?” “Yes, I just need you to sign a release form. And can you leave your card with Lucy, so if I find any more weird things I can give you a call?” She slid the release to him, and he scribbled his signature on it.

“No problem,” He shook her hand and headed back out the way he came. Lucy was checking in an elderly couple for their appointment while Janice pulled their file. Once the couple sat down, Scott approached the desk.

“Hey again,” He smiled at Lucy, and she felt her cheeks lighting up again.

“Hey. Did you get everything you need?” “Well, almost. I just need your number.” Scott chuckled a little when Lucy squeaked.

“Here you go,” Lucy wrote her number on a sticky note, and against her common sense, drew a little heart on it as well. Scott smiled as he took the note, sliding her his card.

“This is for Dr. Pierce, but feel free to call for anything. And I mean anything.” He left then and Janice quickly made her way back over to Lucy.

“Girl!” She was practically bouncing. “He’s just your type and you barely had to say anything! Tell me your secret!” “He’s not my type. I don’t have a type.”

“Oh yes, you do. You love Magnum PI.”

“Well, that’s Tom Selleck. Everyone loves Tom Selleck,” Lucy shrugged.

“What’s that other detective show? The brothers? Oh! Rick Simon. You love him.” Lucy glared at Janice. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Don’t you have nurse things to do?” Lucy asked. Janice just laughed before heading to get a room set up for the first patients of the day, while Lucy looked at the business card she had been given.

[xhannahbananax03]

Slip Away

Pairing: Austin x Reader

MASTERLIST

Words: 2k

Warnings: Slow burn, some angst

Her hands rose up towards the stage as a look of confused pleasure took over her face. She watched Elvis Presley move across the platform in the center of the recording studio as he sung his heart out, body clad in a leather suit, hair sticking to his forehead with sweat.

Y/n was unsure how to feel. She knew she felt incredibly aroused watching him up close like this, her thighs pressing tighter and tighter together confirmed that for her, but her face spoke otherwise. She was screaming and practically crying with the other women surrounding her as everyone sat and watched the performance, but every few seconds you could see her take a moment to really think about how appropriate her feelings were, before her expression went back to excitement and you could tell she stopped caring once more.

"Aaaaaand... Cut!" Baz shouted out with the clicking clapperboard as a few studio bells rang and everyone gave Austin a loud cheer, Baz walking up onto the stage to talk to the young man about the scene.

Y/n rose with the rest of the crowd and straightened out her costume dress as she went to the Craft Service Table to grab a cup of water, knowing that her vocal cords were going to be needing it for all the screaming she'd have to do as an audience extra.

"Hey honey," She heard Austin creep up behind her, grabbing a water for himself as a lady from makeup dabbed some of the sweat away from his forehead quickly, "What d'ya think?" He asked smiling down at her as she shook her head up at him in amazement like she always did.

"You've once again blown me away," She shrugged honestly and his smile became brighter making her smile in return.

"Mr. Butler! If you don't mind taking a seat over here for a moment so we can do touch ups?" An on set hairstylist shouted out, motioning towards a chair a few feet away and Austin looked at Y/n to which she nodded and followed him over.

"How are ya today, Janice?" Austin asked politely, taking a seat in front of the woman her smiled down at him.

"I'm doin' just fine, Elvis," She mocked his accent in a teasing tone as she usually did and he blushed lightly while looking to the ground as Janice started her work.

Ever since Y/n and Austin stared working together on set about a year ago they became fast friends. She was only an extra for a few scenes, while Austin was the star, but he still took notice to her.

He doubted he'd ever have the gall to admit it out loud, but he found her just stunning. She was charming too and everyday he found himself trying to get closer and closer to her, "So," Austin cleared his throat, looking at Y/n who was staring back, "What're ya doing later after work, Y/n?".

"Oh probably same old, same old," She shrugged, "Just gonna go home and order some takeout," He also loved that about her. Y/n was never ashamed of being human like a lot of people were in this industry, like how Austin was at times.

"Well mind if I join ya?" He asked curiously, a little blush taking over his cheeks as he looked at her hopefully.

"Sure," She shrugged nonchalant and Austin's heart dropped a little at how little she seemed to care, "It's a date," She smiled at him kindly before turning around and making her way back to Baz as he called in the extras to speak to them.

With her back turned to Austin, she let out a shaky breath, hoping he didn't notice the excitement in her tone. They had hung out a few times outside of work but usually in a public setting or with other cast mates around so it never felt really private.

She'd be lying if she said she didn't have a massive crush on Austin. He's the whole movie she auditioned for this movie in the first place, she grew up watching him on T.V and had just developed this liking for him and the more she got to know him the more she realized she much preferred who he was off-screen.

They ran the scene a few more times along with a few other ones that Y/n wasn't in so she just waited outside the studio, talking with a few of the other extras about how they were sad that this was their last day. Luckily, it wouldn't be hers, she had one more scene that was for the end of the movie and then she'd be done.

When Austin finally made his way outside, Y/n could see the almost craze in the other women's eyes as he approached with that dazzling smile everyone became accustomed to, "Hi ladies," He smiled and a few of the women blushed while giving a small wave or little 'hello' in return, "Ya wouldn't mind if I stole this pretty little thing from y'all, now would ya?" He practically flirted with the women, throwing his arm over Y/n's shoulder and she shook her head lightly, grabbing onto the tips of his fingers. He knew what he was doing.

"Not at all," One of the women shook her head waving to the pair as she led the group away, "Call me sometime, Y/n!" She called over her shoulder before Y/n said she would and turned to walk towards the car with Austin.

He had a personal driver so thankfully she wouldn't have to call a cab tonight, most nights she didn't anyway, Austin offering to drop her off at her apartment on his way home.

"You're cruel," Y/n jokingly told him, shoving his arm away from her as the pair chuckled and Austin threw his arm back around her, squeezing her close and making her heart flutter, "Leading those ladies on like that," Y/n tsked and shook her head at him in a scolding manner.

"Oh please, like you're not jus' as bad," He scoffed out as he opened the back door of the black SUV for her, "Ya act like ya don' have every guy in that damn studio's attention," He scowled a little, not letting her see but his bitter tone uncontrollably slipped through his words.

"Well it's hard to notice anything when you're in the room, Aus," She said with a little laugh but meant every word and the look he gave her showed that she wasn't doing a good job of hiding the truth from him, so with a deep blush, she sat down and scooted across the bench seat to the other side of the SUV, allowing Austin to get in behind her.

The rest of the ride was spent in semi-awkward silence after her little comment and she found herself beating herself up over it. How could she be so stupid? If the silence didn't confirm Austin's discomfort with her flirting, she didn't know what did.

"Here we are," She mumbled with a tight lipped smile, walking up to her ground floor apartment door and grabbing her keys out of her bag to unlock it, "I'm sorry about the mess," She apologized as she opened the door and stepped inside, Austin following her close behind.

"If ya think this is a mess, ya should see my place," He chuckled softly, looking around at the relatively clean apartment, just a few things scattered about, as he tried his hardest to get the mood back to where it was before he went all quiet in the car.

He didn't mean to, he just wasn't used to her flirting with him. He was usually the one to do that and they just kind of chalked it up to that being his 'Elvis' persona poking through, trying their hardest to avoid what was going on between them, but when she finally flirted back, he was in shock. This confirmed something for him, he just wasn't sure what and didn't want to jump to the conclusion of her reciprocating his feelings and scaring her off.

"So what do you want to order for dinner?" She asked, pulling out a few menus and tossing them on the island of her kitchen as Austin removed his shoes and coat by the door, "I've got one for Chinese, one for pizza and one for a Mexican place. Or we could just order McDonald's or something," She shrugged, dropping her purse on the counter and looking over at him, a small blush still on her cheeks and he smiled.

"I'm down for whatever ya want, sweetheart," He grinned at her, his flirtatious manner coming back tenfold and she nodded her head, grabbing one of the menus and her cellphone.

He looked around her apartment as she made the call and took his time to look over some photos of her, one in particular caught his attention and he picked up the frame. Inside was Y/n, in a wedding dress, standing across from a man as they smiled at each other.

Austin looked at it awhile longer, confusion evident in his face. Y/n had never mentioned a partner, let alone a husband. Why wouldn't she think to bring that up?

"That's Nate," Y/n told him, surprising him and making him jump a little, he didn't mean to snoop like he had and he quickly sat the photo back down before looking to her and seeing a sad smile on her face, "He was my husband," She explained, wanting him to know that they were no longer together.

"Was?" He asked curiously but not wanting to sound judge-y, he knew he'd still like her no matter what.

"Mhm," She nodded taking the photo from the stand where it sat, "We got married, like, super young," She chuckled, looking at the picture of her wedding day with a fond expression, "He was in the military and was killed," She finally let out, not really having talked to anyone about it in a long time.

It had happened over 10 years ago, so she had had plenty of time to mourn, but when she moved away from their shared home, she lost contact with his family and just kinda stopped talking about it. She did, however, keep this one simple photo of them together, "I hope you don't mind," She looked up to Austin, still holding the picture in her hands.

He looked at her for a moment with a sad expression, before gently taking the photo from her hands and setting it down and bring her into his arms to hold her tightly, "I'm so sorry, Y/n," He told her honestly, kissing the top of her head and now he found himself being upset that he had even thought about feeling jealous, "I'm sure he was a great man,"And Austin was sure he was, judging by the photo alone, Y/n looked extremely happy.

The sweet moment was broken up by a knock on the door and the pair pulled apart, "I've got it, honey," He told her, squeezing her arm before going to answer the door and grab their food, "Wanna eat in the living room? Maybe watch a movie?" He suggested, carrying a bag of food towards where they were in the living, but before he could even get a few steps away from the door, he was met with her standing directly in front of him and he smiled down at her, waiting for her answer.

Y/n stared up at him with a nearly blank face as she reached out and took the food from his hands, setting it on the floor by their feet and he looked at her confused, "Wha-" His words were quickly cut off by the feeling of her lips pressing against his firmly.

It took Austin only a second before he was holding onto her and kissing her back just as passionately. He had no idea where this was coming from, but now that he had her, really had her, he wasn't about to let her slip away.

Tag List:

@meladollsims @literally-just-elvis-fics @jessie-williams1 @venus-haze @lov3r0fr0ck @briannaisanxious @galvz-42 @omgellenlouise @flamencodiva-reblogs @missmaywemeetagain @rosecoloreddesire @knoxvillesshoes @girlblogger2002 @jessicarcates @captured-memory @madilynnk @just-a-dumb-rat @perfectlyboring @ewwwyuck @aalishifts @groovydeputyfestivalkid @dre6ming @austinsrealgf @cherryredheart @lwritesstuff @gjclark19100 @thatonemoviefan @ash-omalley @foxxycurriespice @heartbrake-hotel @woundmetender

[kungfuwushuworld]

Janice Hung

The straight sword is not just a weapon; it is an extension of my mind, body, and spirit. Through countless hours of practice, I have honed my skills and sharpened my focus. With every move, I feel the energy flow through me. The sword is my passion, my art, my way of life. But it is not just about winning medals or accolades. It is about pushing myself to be the best version, surpassing my limitations, and inspiring others to do the same. So pick up your sword and join me on this journey of self-discovery and empowerment. Together, we can unlock our true potential and become champions in our own right.

[killed-by-choice]

Janice Marilyn Foster, 18 (USA 1971)

18-year-old Janice Foster was approved by a hospital committee for a “therapeutic” abortion. Richard M. Neal, the abortionist, examined Janice and decided she was 12 weeks pregnant. The suction abortion was done at Valley Doctor’s Hospital on September 11, 1971. Neal reported that he thought it was uneventful. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

Janice’s brother-in-law picked her up from the hospital after the abortion and noticed she was very weak and sleepy. He brought her home, but she started suffering from abdominal pain. In September 14, the scared and sick teenage girl called Neal and told him what was happening. He didn’t tell her to go to the emergency room and simply said he would see her the next day.

That night, Janice felt very sick and went to bed early. At around 2:00 A.M., she suffered hot and cold flashes for approximately twenty minutes and then went into convulsions. Her brother-in-law called for help, and police and paramedics came. They found Janice in bed, apparently unresponsive. Paramedics attempted to revive her on the way to the hospital, but she was dead on arrival.

Janice’s autopsy revealed the malpractice and negligence she suffered at Neal’s hands. Her vagina was full of pus. The placenta was still attached to her boggy uterus, which also contained her baby’s mangled and rotten corpse. Janice died without knowing she was not in the first trimester, but unintentionally had an abortion at 19 weeks. Her son’s “macerated, lacerated and purulent” body “shows lacerations in the shoulder area, evisceration of the bowel through an abdominal laceration, and destruction of the skull and facial structures.” The uterus also held "approximately 20 cc. of red-brown purulent and foul-smelling liquid with similar odor and color to an exudate on the endometrial surface." In less than four days, Janice’s body had been ravaged by sepsis. It would have been an excruciating death for herself as well as her son.

Neal was indicted on a felony manslaughter charge in Janice's death by an LA County grand jury. His first trial ended in a hung jury on March 24, 1976 after four days of deliberation. The second trial ended in a hung jury on November 1, 1976 on the fifth day of deliberation. After two mistrials, a motion was successfully brought forth to dismiss the charges. Neal got to go back to his life in Beverly Hills as if Janice and her baby never existed.

"California Death Index, 1940-1997," database, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:VGR1-GCM : 26 November 2014), Janice M Foster, 15 Sep 1971; Department of Public Health Services, Sacramento.

"California, County Birth and Death Records, 1800-1994", , FamilySearch (https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:QGLS-DK5Z : Fri Mar 08 09:31:26 UTC 2024), Entry for Janice M Foster, 15 September 1971.

LA County Coroner Case No. 71-984

LA County Superior Court Case No A310874 and Case No C34424

* Note: Janice’s name was incorrectly given in previous research as Janet Foster, Janet Forster and various other misspellings.

[nightmaremp]

Weremayhem: Rings of Flames. Ch 8: No Band Leader

   It was nighttime now. Perfect time to let the feline outside for fresh air. The darkness out the night was perfect to hide the wereblood. The band spent some hours pushing the doc outside. The group fell to the ground with a loud huff. Sweat was running down their faces as they tried to catch their breath. 

“Finally. He’s out” groan Floyd Pepper as he gets up and pops his back. A loud pop filled the silence air around them. The red haired male let out another groan as he rubbed his back after popping it. 

“For sure,” replied Janice as she got up. Lips nods as he gets up but falls back on his butt when Teeth’s tail went in front of his legs. The blonde male quickly got back up and walked away from the good doctor. 

Animal groaned as he got up. “Heavy,” said the drummer. Floyd let out a laugh at the words of the wild man. The blonde female hit the red haired male’s ribs with her elbow. 

“What? It was funny” replied Floyd Pepper as he rubbed his rib where she had elbowed him at. 

“Not the time” replied Janice with a bit of a cold tone in her voice. The blonde female let out a soft sigh. She looked over at Zoot who was using Dr. Teeth as a wall against his back. Soft sounds of the chain moving filled the air. The wereblood was asleep the whole time they were moving him outside. 

“Zoot, do you want us to stay outside with you and Teeth?” asked Janice as she faced the dark blue haired male. The saxophonist looked up at the blonde female. He let out a yawn before answering. 

“No, I'm fine. You guys go inside and get some rest” replied Zoot. 

“You sure?” replied Janice. 

“Yep” replied the dark blue haired male with a thumbs up. The band went back inside the house. Lips look back at the saxophonist before shutting the back door. Floyd and Janice head to their bedroom for the night. Lips head down to the basement to collect some drool and fur off the floor. He wanted to see if he could test it to find what is wrong with Dr. Teeth. 

The blonde male stops before entering the basement. Lips noticed the front door crack a little bit open. He went over to the front door and closed it. The trumpet player locks the door before heading back to the basement. Lips walk down the stairs and start to use a napkin to hold the drool and fur. 

As the blonde male was picking up fur and drool that the wereblood left behind, he heard a sound behind him. Lips quickly turned before something metal hit his head. The trumpet player fell on the floor, unconscious. A bit of blood was dripping from Lips’ head from the hit. 

Stepping out of the shadows was…Lops. The blonde male let out a laugh as he held the metal baseball bat behind him. He moved his golden locks out of his face. His dreadlocks fall back on his shoulders. Some of his hair was in a man bun like Zot’s. His leather jacket shines in a bit of the moonlight. His black eyelids with dark purple running down the middle narrow as a smirk form on his face. 

His black heel boots click against the hard floor of the basement. “He is out. Perfect” he said under his breath as he rubbed his fingers on his chin. He had some hair on his chin that wasn’t long, it was a goatee  sour patch. His ripped jeans almost got caught on Animal’s old drum kit but he moved away from the drum kit. 

Lops head up stairs and lock the basement door to keep the trumpet player out of the way. He hides behind the stairs that go upstairs. The blonde male didn’t want the band’s drummer to find him. Luckily, the wild man was in bed. Lops pulled out his phone and called Zot. 

“I got them taken care of. Well, except for Zoot. He is watching over the band leader.” said the blonde male as he looked at the back door and saw the two. 

“Don’t worry about that worm. Me and Flooyd will take care of him” replied Zot with a smirk. He hung up on Lops before getting out of the truck. They got a truck with a huge horse carrier attached to the back. Flooyd followed after him. 

Zot fixed his black sweater. His hands have fingerless leather gloves. The dark blue haired male’s leather boots hit against the grass. His nose ring shines in the light. Zot dusted off his blue jeans before letting out a huff. “Come on, Flooyd” said the dark blue haired male as he slowly walk to the back yard. 

Flooyd huff. “I’m coming!” replied the red haired male. He has some gray hair especially in his mustache and goatee. His fluffy eyebrows were white as snow, they narrowed at the dark blue haired male. The red haired male’s black tennis shoes hit the ground as he walked up to Zot. Flooyd’s blue jeans had some hole in them due to falling a lot. His white t-shirt was dirty due to falling on the ground before leaving to get Teeth. 

The two walk up to the corner of the house. “There they are,” said Zot with a grin on his face. Dr. Teeth and Zoot were asleep in the backyard. 

“So, how will we get him away from the feline?” replied the red haired male. 

“I will take care of it. You back the truck into here and get Lops to help you load the feline into the trailer” replied the dark blue haired male. 

“Alright” replied Flooyd as he quickly ran back to the truck and got in. Zot slowly walked up to the two. He quickly kicks the sleeping saxophonist in the face to get him off the cheshire smilodon. His sunglasses fall off. 

Zoot quickly wakes up and looks up at Zot. “You!” yelled the dark blue haired male as he quickly got up. His nose was bleeding but he didn’t care. 

“What the hell are you doing here!?” hiss the saxophonist. His eyes narrow at the moopet. 

“Collecting our prize,” replied Zot with a shit eating grin on his face. 

“What do you mean?” replied Zoot with a snarl on his face. 

“Our boss wants your cheshire smilodon. He is the only species of his kind. No other cheshire smilodon exists. He is a prize” replied the moopet. 

“You’re not getting him! He is my friend!” yelled Zoot in anger. His green eyes look dead into the other male’s eyes. Anger filled them. 

“Oh? Then I may have to kill you for him!” replied Zot with an evil laugh. The saxophonist snaps, he sucker punches him in the face. Zot falls back a bit but stops himself. A black eye was forming on his left eye. 

The dark blue haired male punched Zoot in the stomach. The saxophonist fell to the ground with a cough. He held his stomach. Pain was filling his body but that isn’t going to stop him from protecting his friend. Zoot quickly kicks Zot between his legs which causes the moopet to scream in pain. 

The saxophonist stood over the dark blue haired male, he was about to stomp on his head. Suddenly something hit the back of Zoot’s head. He fell to the ground. His eyes close. Lops was behind the unconscious saxophonist. He helped Zot up from the ground. 

“Got him loaded up?” the dark blue haired male with a huff as he tries to stand. 

“Yep. Now let's leave” replied the blonde male. He quickly helped Zot into the truck. The two got into the truck. Flooyd had finished locking the door to the trailer. He wiped his hands on his pants. The red haired male was about to head to the truck when something grabbed him and pulled him down to the ground. 

Flooyd lookup and he was about to scream but a hand quickly cover his mouth. It was Zoot. Blood was running down from his face and was dripping onto the red haired male’s face. His green eyes stare down at the moopet. Flooyd can see the rage in the saxophonist’s eyes. 

The truck started and start to drive away. Zoot suddenly drops the red haired male. He went off after the truck. 

Lops noticed Zoot running after the truck. He quickly pulled out a smoke bomb and threw it at the saxophonist. The bomb went off and it blinded the dark blue haired male’s eyes. He stops and starts to cough. The smoke blind his vision. He can’t follow them with the smoke in the air around him. 

When the smoke cleared, the truck and Teeth were gone. Zoot’s heart drops. He failed Dr. Teeth. The dark haired male walk back to the house and see Flooyd still on the ground. The red haired male look up at Zoot and gives a nervous laugh. 

[ladykailitha]

Star Child Part 12

Yeah...it’s really looking like this story is coming to a close. And I hate it. I love this story, but my muse has me careening toward the finish line like a star falling to earth. Far, far too quickly. If my muse had any sense at all, it would drag out the plot with Creel and the label, but it doesn’t want to. It wants the boys to be happy ever after NOW not in five weeks (as was the original ending with Corroded Coffin’s final concert in LA and Steve confessing his feelings on stage).

Also there is a cliffhanger but I have written most of the next chapter so Monday you should get the resolution. And just remember, I promised a happy ending.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

*

Steve made a couple of calls himself. The first to Erica to make sure that being in litigation would prevent him from leaving the state. It didn’t, so his next call was to Jane. Between the two of them they crafted the perfect coming out plan. Complete with statements and interviews. His final phone call was to Robin.

“I’m giving you the heads up,” Steve said once she answered. “I’m going burn the label to the ground. Erica and Jane are all for it.”

“What made you decide to do it now?” she asked. “Instead of a week from now or even a month?”

“Because it’s better to be honest and open now,” he explained, pacing in his office, “then to have to do damage control. Let people know what I was forced into and how dangerous the music industry still is for the LGBTQ+ community. I’m tired of hiding, Robin.”

She sighed. “I know. I’m proud of you.”

“I almost came out at Love Loud...” he whispered into the phone.

There was silence on the line for a moment before Robin said, “Wow.”

He took a deep breath. “I got talked out of it by the record label. They told me to wait until after the last album was complete.”

“Something they thought was years off,” Robin said. “Those bastards!”

Steve hummed in agreement. “Pretty much.”

“You need me to come over?” she asked.

“No,” Steve murmured. “I’m going to fly out to Salt Lake City and do a couple of radio shows and be seen with Eddie.”

Robin huffed out a laugh. “And I can guess who’s idea that was.”

“Dustin is going to be insufferable,” he said with a sigh.

Robin cackled until Steve hung up the phone.

*

“In a released statement from Steve Harrington’s management and PR firm the pop star, formally of the boy band The Kings came out as bisexual. The statement went on to say that his parents and the label conspired to keep his attraction to men a secret, going as far as conversion therapy, threat of commitment to a mental institution, and even blackmail.

“Steve Harrington was seen at LAX this afternoon and our sources say that he went off to go into hiding until this all cools down. Further sources say that he is holed up in a hotel in Salt Lake City. Sources couldn’t confirm, however whether or not he was with Corroded Coffin who will be playing at the Vivint Arena tomorrow night to a sold out crowd.

We will keep you to date on all the latest news surrounding the sudden coming out of Steve Harrington...”

Eddie turned off the TV and turned to Steve. “That was quite the coming out story, sweetheart.”

Steve was with the band and their manager, Chrissy Cunningham in Eddie’s hotel suite.

“I just hope it gets the hounds of hell off my heels,” Steve murmured.

Chrissy pursed her lips. “I’m not sure I like this plan.”

Jeff nodded. “There are so many things that could go wrong, but if it goes right all of us will be able to sleep better at night, and you know it.”

Chrissy sighed. “I do like the guards outside the door, though. That’s a nice touch.”

Steve grinned. “Aren’t they fantastic?”

“We’re smuggling you out to LA,” Brian told her. “We don’t want you caught in the crossfire if this goes south.”

Chrissy’s eyes went wide.

“Which it won’t,” Eddie growled, glaring at Brian.

“You’ll be staying with my manager, Robin Buckley at my place,” Steve said. “Janice already has people there to protect you both if Creel decides he wants hostages.”

They all sobered up at that. Steve coming out was only a part of the puzzle and if all went well, they would have one creepy ass dude behind bars.

*

Steve had lunch with Eddie and they both made sure they had their location turned on so that they would be seen together.

“I think of all the parts of this plan I hate the most,” Steve said when he spotted the third paparazzo snapping their picture, “is that this is a setup. I wish it was something we were just out doing.”

Eddie’s heart ached even as the butterflies took off in his stomach.

“You telling me you want to go out with me, Stevie?”

Steve chewed his bottom lip and looked down shyly at his half eaten sandwich, “And if I did?”

Eddie cocked his head and smiled, “And were you just going ‘keep doing what you were doing and hope it was enough’, sweetheart?”

Steve blushed. “You caught me. It was about you all this time.”

Eddie lift Steve’s chin gently with a single finger. “I don’t do low key, babe. I’m very loud about who and what I like. I came up with the plan, because I wanted to be seen with you.”

Steve’s eyes went wide as Eddie pressed their lips together and he sighed into the kiss.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie murmured.

“For what?” Steve breathed out like a sigh.

Eddie kissed him again. “For not remembering our first kiss. For not running away with you when I had the chance.”

Steve brought his chair closer to Eddie’s to lean into the man’s shoulder. “I think I like it this way. Who knows what might have happened if we had, maybe we became a duo like the White Stripes or maybe would have struggled for years and never became anyone. But I do know that the Kings wouldn’t have been famous. Corroded Coffin wouldn’t have been a band. And I hate that thought.”

Eddie put his arms around Steve’s shoulder. “I love you so much. I think I always have. I just buried it deep. Twisted it until it was unrecognizable. But then you turned back up in my life and I wanted to write love songs about you in a week.”

Steve chuckled. “I’ve already written love songs about you.”

Eddie laughed. It wasn’t malicious or cruel, it was bright and clear. Like of course he did. “You record any of those sappy love songs about me?”

Steve pursed lips and looked up.

“Oh god,” Eddie said with a chuckle. “Can I guess which one? Unless there is more than one?”

Steve shook his head. “I think the label recognized it as being about a boy and carefully vetted each song before I could record it. It was then I realized I was never going to give them my best songs. Because all my best songs were always about you.”

Eddie blushed. “So it would have be off your first solo album...” Steve nodded. “Oh god...”

Steve laughed. “Yup.”

“Oh no,” Eddie moaned. “God that is super cheesy, darlin’.”

“Oh yeah,” Steve said.

“‘Drowning in Your Brown Eyes’, really?”

“In my defense I was eighteen when I wrote it, and just swapped out the pronouns when I went into the recording studio. But yeah, it’s about you, sunshine.”

“Are you going to tell people it’s about a boy?” Eddie asked, pressing his lips to the top of Steve’s head. “That it’s about me?”

Steve lifted his head. “Do you want me to? I mean it is pretty cheesy pop clap trap. I would rather write songs about you and then release it with the knowledge that it’s about you. With everyone knowing it’s about you.”

Eddie’s expression turned fond. “Okay, babe. We could write a duet. Like the Love Loud concert, only our song.”

“I did promise that I would let you write a song on my first non-pop album. I would be happy to have you, love.”

Eddie couldn’t resist pressing his lips to Steve’s. In that moment, everything faded away. The world in which cruel labels, psychopathic mob figures, and disappointing parents just vanished in the midst of their love.

*

They stumbled gleefully into Eddie’s hotel room, kissing and laughing at how happy they were now that they realized how much they love each other.

Someone cleared their throat and they froze. They turned slowly to see Henry Creel sitting in an arm chair. He was devastatingly beautiful as he always was. He wore a white suit with matching loafers and the jacket draped over his shoulders like a cape. The light blue button shirt was the exact color of his eyes. His blond hair flopped lazily over one eye.

Behind him were Twiddle Dee and Twiddle Dum.

“So you do only have two minions,” Eddie huffed. “Mike was right, you are stupid.”

Creel’s face twisted into a snarl. “I didn’t get to where I am by being dumb, Eddie.”

Eddie raised a questioning eyebrow.

“This room has been swept for electronic devices,” Creel continued. “So if you think that your precious federal officers are going to be coming to your rescue, do think again, won’t you?”

Steve looked him up and down. “Christ.”

Creel smirked. “Close enough. I get everything I want. And I want Eddie Munson.”

Steve scratched his cheek and cocked his head. “I don’t know if you realize this, but Eddie is a person, not a thing, not a possession. You can’t have him.”

Eddie took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I told you when we first met, I don’t heel. I’m not a lap dog. You can’t bring me to my knees.”

Creel stood up and he was eye to eye with Eddie. “I can and I will.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “My bandmates already know not to trust anything that didn’t come directly from my mouth, thanks to that little stunt in Austin.”

Creel’s answering smile was cruel. “You forget one small detail, Eddie dear.”

“What’s that?”

“You would do anything to not see him harmed,” Creel said with a smug grin.

“You’re threatening to what?” Steve asked, with an eye roll. “To kill me? Hurt me? Throw me back to the wolves who are my parents? Let the record label win, so I’m controlled forever? What could you do to me that I haven’t done or tried to do to myself?”

Eddie heart shattered. “Sweetheart...”

Steve lifted his chin. “I went through hell, Creel. You are just another demon barking at my heels.”

“Castor, Pollock, take Stevie here to the other room and kill him,” Creel said over his shoulder. “Make it look like suicide, won’t you?”

Steve closed his eyes as they grabbed him roughly. Eddie moved to stop them, but he felt sharp pain in his side. He looked down to see Creel was holding a switchblade to him.

“Please don’t move,” Creel said sweetly. “I would hate to get blood on this suit.”

“It’s okay, Eddie,” Steve murmured. “He hasn’t won.”

Eddie jaw began to quiver.

Steve stopped just before the door and turned around to face him. “Make him pay.”

Eddie nodded.

The door closed and a few moments later...

BANG!

***

Part 13 Part 14 Part 15  Part 16

Tag List: @bejeweledbaby @eboyawstenn @moonshadows-13 @ohlook-afrog @goodolefashionedloverboi @linkydinky06 @livelaughlexa @spectrum-spectre @cutepumpkin4 @whatthemeepever @gleek4twd @anything-thats-rock-and-roll @novelnovella @celtrose-ish @artiststarme @plasticcrotches  @failedstarsandgoldenclouds @anaibis @nelotegreitic @steddieassheg0es @abstractnaturaldisaster @scheodingers-muppet @tiny-enthusiast @yes-im-your-mom @thegingerrapunzel @milf-harrington @avacrebs @gregre369 @raisedbylibrarians @reverseteehee @lillys-weird-world @deadlydodos @runyousillydetective @justrandomfandomstm @piebook67 @clumsywriter @donttouchmycarrots @fiore-della-valle @idkareallyreallygoodname  @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @imfinereallyy @ravenpainter @ellietheasexylibrarian @maya-custodios-dionach @child-of-cthulhu @estrellami-1 @lillithhellfire @nerdsconquerall @space-invading-pigeon @localgaydisaster @bookbinderbitch 

[fiorimaya]

Hi! Can I request a Zoot/Lips romance/fluff fanfic where they have a date in a 50s style diner?

Of course! Thanks for being my first requester! A specific diner came to mind for this! Hope you like it!

It was a cool, rainy afternoon in New York City. Spring was only a few short weeks away though the cool air showed no sign of it. The Electric Mayhem was scheduled for a gig in a small venue there in Times Square and had arrived the day before. They were staying at a cheap, very old, motel right outside of the city. Floyd and Janice shared a room, Teeth with Animal in another, and Zoot with Lips in another. It was the only option, given that the available rooms only had one bed.

Zoot was tired from all the traveling they'd done and laid down for a nap. Lips laid beside of him, wide awake from all that coffee, looking over the brochure he grabbed from the check-in counter of the motel. That was when he saw the advertisement for a diner called 'Soho Diner'. He blushed a little at an idea, glancing over at the sleeping Zoot beside him.

An hour and a half went by. Lips was still laying there wide awake, just waiting for his boyfriend to wake up. That wait came to an end when a pounding on the door woke him quite abruptly. Lips got up and went to the door, opening it to Janice.

"Hey. So like, we're all going to this rully cool place down to the road fer dinner. You two coming?"

Lips glanced at Zoot, who was fighting to stay awake and more than likely didn't catch what Janice had said. Lips returned his focus to Janice and spoke softly. "We actually, uh..."

Janice looked at him funny.

"I mean, I was going to take Zoot to another place. J-Just the two of us."

Janice smiled widely. "Ooooo like, have fun you two. We'll see you later then."

Once she walked away, Lips closed the door and returned to Zoot who was nearly asleep again. "Zoot? Zoooooooot."

"Huh?" Zoot woke up again.

Lips smiled softly. "Damn, you're such a cutie."

Zoot smiled back. "I know you are, but what am I?"

Lips shook his head, still smiling. He slowly put his arms around him, Zoot doing the same. Lips took a deep breath. "I wanna take you out tonight."

"Where are we going?"

Lips grabbed the brochure from the nightstand and pointed out the advertisement for him to see.

Zoot nodded. "Well, what are we waiting for?"

Not quite half an hour later, they walked into the Soho Diner, hand-in-hand. Thankfully the rain had turned into a drizzle by the time they'd left the motel. Lips wasn't really sure what he was expecting the diner to be like, but he wasn't expecting it to be so bright. The ceiling was of light wood and the lights that hung down were yellow. The rest of the diner was full of burnt orange, bright turquoise, and neon red. It definitely gave a vintage vibe, for sure. The warmth that the diner gave felt nice after being in the cold. A waitress was quick to lead them to a booth and took their orders. Lips ordered the rigatoni and Zoot settled for the baked mac & cheese.

Lips finished first. Zoot was almost finished with his when they got the bill. Zoot glanced down at it, seeing the total as $43. He swallowed quickly to speak when he saw Lips counting his money. "Lips, no."

At that point, Lips had two $20s laid on the table and was counting out the $1s. "Yes! Zoot, I'm paying."

Zoot pulled out his wallet and was about to open it before Lips snatched it. "Hey!" Zoot reached for it, and Lips held it out of his reach.

"Zoot!" Lips gave him a stern look, though he was smiling slightly. "I wanted to take you on a date. I wanted to do something nice for you. So I saved my money for this. Let me pay."

Zoot kept quiet and just looked at him, lips pursed slightly. Lips put the last $1 needed on the table before grabbing Zoot's hand and pulling him out the door. During their dinner, the drizzle had turned into a very heavy rain.

The two ran, hand-in-hand again, full of laughter, to the edge of the street. They were quick to get into the taxi when it arrived. Lips gave the driver the name of the motel they were staying at through his panting before looking over at Zoot who was panting as well.

Zoot smiled slightly and shook his head. "I owe you, then."

Lips puckered his lips, like he was wanting a kiss. Zoot looked at him with confusion, but took his hand softly before leaning forward and giving him his wish.

When they pulled away, Lips cocked his head to the side and smiled at him. "There. Now you don't owe me."

[plantinghobbies]

Three: No Mirrors for Monsters

Guyyyyys, where has 7 months gone!?! Ok well I’m back at it and already writing chapter 5 and feel like I finally know where this little imagination thread is going with Matty and Tess. Thanks as always to @sycophanticsolipsism for being a champion through all of my 800 drafts of this thing and being the best beta, friend and muse. And to you for reading and letting me know what you think!

Growing Pains Masterlist

The walks had begun out of necessity, something to break up the monotonous hours between waking up and going to the bar most nights to help out. (It had actually been her therapist’s idea - “you time,” Janice had coined with a smirk, already familiar with the eye roll she’d be on the receiving end of. “Not everything has to have a purpose Tess, sometimes it’s good to just be.) B(e) - as in boredom. Which is exactly what she’d been drowning in since she moved a few months ago. Walking was boring but at least it had a - she hates how months working with Janice has made purpose feel like a four-letter word - point. 

She hadn’t felt this way in fifteen years, that itchy feeling like an electric current in her limbs, making it feel physically impossible to sit still (a doctor once told her that it was ADHD, that she could get tested, but Tess caught a big case and by the time she surfaced back in New York after the deal went through, the woman had moved her practice upstate). 

When Tess was twelve, she’d bribed Darby Scantlon’s idiot brother to let her ride along with him to UNC Asheville twice a week to sit in on his classes. It had taken months of saving up her babysitting money to cover the extortionist fee he “required” for gas (read: beer money) as well as the fake ID from the stoners he tipped her off to who hung out behind the local high school. But she was determined, bored out of her skull in her classroom and starry-eyed at the UNC pamphlet she’d picked up promising her challenging experiences with cutting-edge learning. She’d told her teachers she was missing class to go to therapy, told her mom she had joined an aeronautics club after school and told Darby she’d never speak to her again if she uttered a word. It took almost two months before she was found out, when her mother ran into Principal Stewart at the grocery store and remarked how much Tess was enjoying learning about space. All hell broke loose after that - nobody in the town soon forgot when her mother charged into the movie theater Mrs. Scantlon worked at hollering about her son kidnapping Tess. Darby didn’t talk to her for a month.

But it was worth it. Because when the professor of the class she’d been squatting in found out that his best student (based on grades, the professor had 212 students and had never actually met Tess) was actually a twelve year old, he’d called Tess’s parents and convinced them to let her stay in the class and take more (when he called the first time, it was 6:30 and her mother had scolded him for interrupting dinner and hung up. Thankfully, he waited an hour and called back). The turning point in her life and she couldn’t even remember the teacher’s name, her young mind discarding it long ago. 

What she could remember was everything else about that night, from the congealed Mac and cheese she was pushing around her plate and the humming melody of cicadas that drifted in with the breeze through the kitchen window. The shrill ring of the phone had surprised them all and her mother clutched her hand to her chest as she went to answer it (even years after the cordless phone became cheap and commonplace, her parents held on to the corded wall unit. So I can monitor your brothers, her mother had said). Her ears had perked up at the mention of her professor’s name, then her whole body had deflated at the quick trill of the phone as her mother dropped the receiver back down. When her dad had asked why the professor was bothering to call back (“I thought we were done with all that talk of extra schoolin?”), her mom had shrugged and slid the cloth napkin back into her lap with a breezy “Well, no harm in hearing what he has to say.” 

Fifteen years later, Tess wonders if that was actually true. 

“Sooo, do you live around here?” Oh shit, she’d forgotten about him. The guy from the lawn that she’d been playing some weird game of chicken with for the last several days. Tess feels awkward suddenly, like when you flirt with someone across a crowded bar, just some harmless fun while you wait for your drink, and then he makes a beeline right toward you. She enjoyed chasing after something but didn’t really know what to do when she caught it. 

“Uhm” The leash pinches her fingers as she hauls Dale back from lunging at a squirrel. She hisses, switching her grip and shaking them out under his watchful eye. “I’m staying a few blocks over.”

“Staying?” He’s cute, scrunching his nose up as if he literally smells something fishy. “Huh. I thought for sure you were a local. I thought you seemed a bit familiar at the bar.”

“Well, technically I am. I’m from about an hour from here.” They’re standing in the middle of the sidewalk, Dale’s nose pressed firmly to the backside of another dog, sniffing in greeting. For a moment, Tess is reminded of how often that nose is nuzzled against her own face, then thinks better of it. “But I’m in town for a little while.”

“Me too. Well, the here for a bit part of what you said at least.” They continue their walk, Tess charting a path from memory and this man seemingly content to follow alongside her. She can see his curious side-eye. He’s clearly a talker. “Umm, what brings you back?”

Tess doesn’t take her eyes off the pavement in front of her. She’s not sure what to say. (It’s nice meeting someone who doesn’t already know - seems like everyone else does.) How much time do you have random stranger?! Where would she even start? ‘Ok, so my Mom’ - Nope, not going there. ‘And my Dad’ - yea, way too soon. ‘Well, I’m 28 and I’ve got no idea what the fuck I’m doing’. Not something she’s going to divulge to a handsome stranger. She settles for something close to the truth. “Family stuff.”

That’s about all she wants to say on the topic so she changes it. “What about you? Your accent sort of gives away the not being from here so…”

“Me?” Tattoos peak out on both arms as he flexes around a subtle stretch. The devil’s brand, her grandmother used to call tats but Tess has always found them oddly enticing. That someone could feel so sure about something that they wanted it forever. Tess has never felt that way about anything. 

“Yea, what brings you to Asheville?” 

“Oh, um….work.” It’s a boring answer which probably means it’s a boring job. She doesn’t ask more, unable to feign interest in asinine topics before she’s had at least two cups of coffee. And even then she’d only ever made it about ten minutes (and that was to close a $3 billion client).

The rest of their walk is done in relative silence, a feeling which Tess doesn’t mind but her companion seems to be less familiar with. There seems to be a million things on the tip of his tongue, his mouth opening frequently before he shakes his head and closes it. It’s not often that Tess finds herself attracted to someone and she’d like a little more time to analyze it, understand why his perfect curls draw her in when others don’t, why her fingers itch to trace his tattoos. Just as she’s wondering if she can snap a picture without him knowing, they’ve reached her house. There’s a split second when she considers whether she should keep walking on so he doesn’t know her address (healthy paranoia in her mind, a product of too much Dateline if you ask the rest of her family) but there’s something about him that makes her feel comfortable, familiar. (That’s just how people described Ted Bundy, you fool! A small voice in her head shrieks). 

Dale stops, already knowing they’re home, and Tess thumbs toward her house, signaling the end of their walk. Before she can wave goodbye, he asks if he can join again tomorrow. She pauses midway through her gate, turning and looking back at him, and recognizes the pacing, the drumming of his hands along her fence, the flickering of his eyes. His body - like hers - seemingly unable to inhabit one space, shifting foot to foot. Taking pity on him, she agrees.

“I’m Matty by the way.” He extends his hand, a large callous running along the side of his index finger. She likes the way his accent clips the t’s in his name. 

She shields her eyes with her left hand as she meets his right. “Tess.”

______________________________________________________________

When Jack said he and Margaret were finally making the move out of New York for somewhere quieter, Matty had figured they were going to New Jersey. He’d had a hard time picturing the Southern town Jack described - “it’s small but not small small you know?” He hadn’t, but now he thinks he gets it. Big enough you don’t have to leave for essentials, small enough that eventually everyone knows you.

Which Matty finds out in a rather mortifying way. 

He’s not sure why he’s been avoiding telling Tess about his… job - life? - fame? (Ugh he hates the sound of that) - about him. It’s not like he’s on a predator registry or wanted for some heinous crime. Or that he has the kind of fame that will bring a disruption to their daily routine. (Media interest - social or otherwise - has significantly died down since the band went on break, fans turning their sites to other interests feeding them with newer content. Matty tries to ignore the fear that creeps in at that thought, that people are losing interest in the band, in him). But he’s enjoying the anonymity, the ability to interact with her without wondering what she’s read about him on the internet. It’s been a long time since he’s interacted with someone as just Matty, and never as 35-year-old version of himself trying to claw his way into adulthood. 

For all his ego, he’d like to get some credit for the fact that it never crossed his mind that she already knew. It finally comes up after the older lady who runs the local coffee shop they’ve been frequenting says ‘bye Matty’ despite them never meeting. He’s a little surprised that the first person to recognize him is not a coed from the local university but a retiree, he thought he knew his demographic a little better. 

“So, I guess that was weird” he holds the door for Tess and she walks ahead, unleashing Dale from the tree he’s been resting under. “Ehm, I should probably tell you - well, it” he clears his throat, unsure suddenly how to talk about this without sounding like a self-involved dickhead “it….may happen, - like I don’t think that much but just -“

“Huh?” She’s looking at him sideways and honestly, that’s a fair response, he’s not making much sense. 

When she finally catches on to what he’s trying to say, she barks out a laugh so loud it startles the dog, who crouches into a fighting position in response. After she collects herself (“Wait, oh my god, do you think -“ Mrs. Markovitch?! A diehard fan?! Oh god, I might pee my pants”), she tells him to get over himself. “Everyone knows everyone around here. These people only watch Jeopardy, the Macy’s Day Parade, and sports. You aren’t famous enough to have penetrated their radar.” Well, he’d felt like a twat and she hadn’t let him live it down, taking the piss out of him every time someone called him by name from then on (“Oh they probably read your latest spread in Pitchfork down at the senior center”). He’d been happy to learn that she knew and didn’t care (“You kind of stick out, honestly. It wasn’t that hard to find you.”), that this mountain that he had built up between them had turned out to be a molehill. It had been a long time since he’d spent time with someone who wasn’t at all tied to his work in some way.  Or who could be counted on to cut his ego off at the knees. Outside of Jack, he hadn’t felt that intimacy with anyone since tour ended. It further intoxicated him - he’d always been a sucker for a woman who could put him in his place. He wouldn’t delude himself that he was immune to her other charms either - her wit, her laughter, her fucking beauty - he was a man after all. He thinks he can sense the same in her, a love of this cat and mouse game between them. They’ve begun to flirt a little more flagrantly - there’d been a moment the other day with a shared fork at breakfast that made him feel like a teenager again - but nothing that couldn’t be explained away between friends. Matty craved more - more jokes and references and intimacy to collect just between them. More ties to her. 

He doesn’t have to wait long for retaliation material, spotting Tess later that week while passing a fitness studio on a smoke break from the studio. Although, she’s kind of hard to miss, dancing around and flailing her arms. He can’t hear the music but can tell instantly that she’s off beat, struggling to keep rhythm with the others. Twirling, squatting, tripping over her feet. She’s a mess - and he can’t look away. But instead of embarrassment at her clear lack of coordination, his mind is flooded with images of dancing with her, trying to teach her. Them dancing in her kitchen, him guiding her hips as they sway, her grinding those hips against him as he leans down to brush his lips against hers. 

A car horn snaps him out of his daydream. He’s aware of what he must look like, can see the headlines now – Hard-Up Healy Turned Peeping Tom. But Matty lingers just a little longer than is polite, eyes darting around hoping to catch hers. Just as he resigns himself to snapping a stealthy pic to take the piss out of her with later, she spots him. A cheshire cat grin breaks out on his face as a look of horror passes over hers. The accompanying thumbs up is unnecessary - but he’s a little shit, what can he say. Tess levels him with a death glare that would have been truly breathtaking if it hadn’t been interrupted by her abrupt collision with the woman next to her, the poor victim grasping Tess’s shoulders to try to help her get back on tempo. He caught the “fuck off” she mouthed at him before he turned and strode away, cackling loudly. 

______________________________________________________________

“Oh my God, that song was proper awful.”

“Fuck off, it’s incredible! I lost my virginity to that song…”

The words are thrown over her shoulder as they navigate her front steps, moving slowly under the weight of their haul from the farmer’s market. Matty almost misses a step at this reveal.

“Oooh sexy, give me the deets” A laugh bubbles up unbidden at the valley girl affect in his voice.

Dale almost tips her over as she roots around in her pocket for her keys. Once inside, she dumps the bags on the kitchen counter, unpacking a random assortment of veggies. 

“No way, I’m not trading sex stories with a rockstar.” Matty grabs plates for their breakfast sandwiches as she settles on the couch, thumbing through the local paper to the crossword puzzle, pulling it out and handing him the rest. Reading up on the local drama had become a guilty pleasure of his.

She knew he wouldn’t drop it, he was like a dog with a bone and no sense of boundaries - his drug addiction, his band, his family, and now his sex life all openly discussed. She had lifelong friends she knew less about than him. And listen, she wasn’t a prude, talking about sex didn’t bother her - except talking about her first time meant talking about school and that meant talking about -

“Claire Murphy when we were fourteen in her parents’ basement. Decidedly not-rockstar. Now spill.” 

She didn’t need to know who Matty was when she first met him to know he was “somebody”. He had an air about him, like he’d never met a room he wasn’t comfortable in. Tess knew the type - cocky, attention-seeking, monied. No thank you, she assumed. It’s why she’d bailed out at the bar, dodged him after. She had been glad to be wrong, glad to find out that while he was all the above, it was oddly endearing instead of asshole-ish. But comparison was a thief that visited her often. It was bad enough when she was comparing herself to her coworker’s dogwalker – it’s why she’d gotten off social media. But juxtaposing her life with a fucking rich rockstar?! She didn’t need that kind of ammo.

And yet, it seemed unavoidable right now. “OK, nevermind, I’ll just ask your brother at the bar tonight.” Fuck it, if he’s going to find out anyway, might as well be from her. Her friends don’t understand why it’s such a big deal for her to tell new people (“Tess, you’re a genius not an axe murderer”) but she prefers when people don’t know. Before the deluge of questions - ‘wait, what’s your IQ? Could you even live in the dorms at 15? Did you get fucking laid in law school being that young?’ That last one had only been asked once and Ben had almost ended up in the city jail for decking the guy. All these questions asked by people who were either surprised that she - Tess, really? - was that smart or were just interested in the salacious goings on of a 15-year-old on a college campus (gross). When that subsides, when she’s answered all the questions and reviewed the timeline of her life over and over, they still look at her different. New friends feel inferior, prospective boyfriends feel threatened. It’d been more of a problem in the isolation of New York, here she had her family and old friends and hadn’t bothered to try to make any new ones. 

Tess plays with the remains of her breakfast sandwich to distract from the uncertainty of how to spill her mess out in front of him. “Fourteen too, my high school’s football field, freshman year of college.” 

Cue the confused look, this scene playing out exactly the way that every other had - Tess playing herself, Matty now cast in the role of the potential love interest (she was far from immune from his charms). “Wait, I thought the American system was…”

Time for Tess’s monologue, the scary uncertain times of her life now scripted down to a tight thirty seconds - college classes at twelve led to an accelerated learning program (the first of it’s kind at her school), finished high school at fourteen, Harvard grad at seventeen (“Yes that Harvard, Matty, please just let me get this out”), law school til 21, firm job until left at 27, ending up right back where she started, helping her brother run his bar while she figures out what’s next. 

There were a few things she’d left out, she needed it to sound cleaner, more deliberate, than it actually was. To stick the landing when in reality it felt like she’d stumbled right off the mat. Because as much as she wished she was a woman who could own her mistakes in the face of someone she was interested in - ok, she fucking really likes him - she’s just not that enlightened yet. She’s still the chicken-shit scared girl who lost her virginity to the first boy who treated her even halfway normal on her first trip home from Boston for semester break. 

Matty’s eyes track her, Tess can feel the weight of them, but she can’t bring hers to meet his. It feels like what he says next could make or break her happiness right now, frail as it is. He’s a bright spot for her, whether she admits it or not. Pathetic. 

The smack of his hands on his knees startles her but it’s a familiar sound. She’s seen this film before - he’ll pat his knees and talk about how impressive she is, how lucky anyone would be to know her, but he just remembered he’s got somewhere to be and -  “Well, THAT explains a lot.” 

His exaggerated voice is entirely for her benefit, that much is obvious. What isn’t is where he’s going with this. “Huh?” For all her IQ, that’s the most she can muster.

“Why you make such a shit drink. I knew it was nepotism but I figured if you’d been a lifelong bartender you at least would have….”

“Oh shut the fuck up” she grabs a pillow and smashes it against his head, a little giddy with the way this was not going as she expected. 

He catches the pillow and pins it between them on the couch, along with her hands momentarily, and then his arms pulled back as if he’d been stung. She picks up her plate again to channel the energy that’s suddenly coursing through her. 

He’s eyeing the leftovers now as she pinches the bread crust between her fingers. She offers it for him to take, still can’t figure out what the fuck to say or where to go from here. He shovels it into his mouth, licking his fingers with a muffled thank you. A smear of aioli lines the corner of his lip, taunting her. Every salacious thought she’d had about him over the last few weeks dripped into her brain all at once. Which is the only explanation she has for what she does next. With a steadiness she certainly didn’t feel, she reaches up, dragging the pad of her finger across his Cupid’s bow before popping it in her own mouth, licking off the remnants of sauce. 

Matty’s sharp inhale brings her back to herself. Good going Tess. He’d stuck around through the weird college stories just for you to run him off by being a complete creep. But there’s no mistaking the look on his face. If he hightails it in the other direction now, she’ll at least be comforted that while he may think she is a total creep, she’s a total creep that he’s at least somewhat attracted to. Their gazes remain locked for what feels like forever - her trembling hand suspended in the air, his eyes flitting across her face as if he can’t pick one thing to focus on. Is it her imagination or is he leaning toward her? Oh god! 

Dale’s bark at a distant siren jolts her from her thoughts. They break eye contact, and she feels a pang of disappointment at the lost opportunity. So close. He clears his throat. “Well, in terms of interesting childhoods, I still think I have you beat.” She laughs harder than the joke warrants, grateful to him for steering them through the visceral tension in the room.” I’m serious! Let me show you!”

Her laugh rings off the kitchen walls as he reaches for his phone, already pulling up Google. 

______________________________________________________________

Matty has to fly to New York to meet with a session musician that Jack loves, their baby due any day and them unable to travel. The night he gets back, she texts him that she’s TBD for the morning walk. Apparently, Dale is vomiting all over the place and she can’t leave him. The disappointment is palpable, he’d been looking forward to seeing her more than he’d realized. Rumpled from jet lag and hours of flying, he crawls into bed and catches up on sleep and tv. 

When he doesn’t hear from her at sunrise, his curiosity is peaked. He’d probably call it borderline worried if that didn’t sound so loaded, serious. They’d texted a few times while he was gone, inane messages of adult life - she took in his mail, he had a package, she threatened to post the contents on Instagram if he didn’t bring her back Magnolia bread pudding. But they weren’t quite at call each other - hell, it seems these days (he knows how he sounds) that the bar for ringing someone was strictly reserved for emergencies and your mum. But worry overwhelms his awkwardness. The low din of background noise is his first clue that something isn’t right, that she’s not home. Her voice is frazzled as she tells him she and Dale are at the emergency vet. Apparently, Dale had gotten worse, he’d been having trouble staying upright.

“I panicked” she admits, though it sounds to him like it was the right call. 

She says she’s fine and that she’ll keep him posted. He spends about a half an hour putting about the house - debating if it would be weird to show up there. He thinks about Dale - such a sweet thing, so eager and trusting of everyone and everything he encountered. He thinks of her, how much he knows she loves that dog, how attached they are, how she seems unwilling to bother anyone in her life until she absolutely needs to. It’s that image, of her alone, that has him grabbing his keys. If he’s not going to be able to focus on anything else, might as well go where his mind is already, patience never his strong suit.

She seems unsure of what to do with him when he appears in the waiting room, and Matty wonders if he shouldn’t have come. When he’d walked through the door with coffee, he didn’t miss the way her eyebrows shot to her hairline. It had clearly caught her off guard. For a moment he has a horrifying thought - well, a series of them that all flow from a fear that he’s misread everything up to now, the flirting, the intimacy, the well everything. That she’s not  alone here as he assumed, that any second shes going to introduce him to her hot boyfriend, some doctor or contractor or someone equally capable, a quality that Matty is deeply aware he’s never been called a day in his life. And they are both going to stare at him, wondering what it is that he - scattered, untrained, ordinary Matty - thought he could do in this crisis situation. But  nobody appears and she gestures to the empty space next to her. 

Sliding a chair over to sit next to her, he finds himself at a loss for what to say. The muscles in her arms are tense as she grips the sides of the chair she’s sitting on, leg bouncing, eyes darting to the doors leading to the back area every time it opens. Anxiety is rolling off of her in waves so strong he swears he can feel them, he’s unsure how to be around her right now.  Is she someone who appreciates a laugh when she’s stressed? Would she snap at him if he said something trite.

In the end, its his curiosity that gets the best of him. “Do they know what’s wrong?”

“Umm” Her voice is hoarse with misuse and suppressed emotion when she goes to speak, clears her throat, and tries again. “They are pretty sure he ate something but they don’t know-.”

“Like what…” he begins but her sharp look cuts him off. 

“I don’t know what! Clearly if I did, we wouldn’t be in this situation, ok?” Even though he knows the rebuke is empty, driven by fear and misunderstanding, his hackles still go up at the sharpness in her tone. He was just asking. 

Silence stretches between them, punctuated by a sigh as she turns his way. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just exhausted. He and I were out yesterday at my Dad’s so maybe… but I don’t know - I’m so careful…” 

Her words trail off as she goes back to staring at the door, as if willing Dale to come through it. Matty can’t do anything for her and he doesn’t like feeling useless, unproductive. The urge to flee is strong, this was a mistake. He resolves to stay a few minutes longer, so that she doesn’t think that he’s leaving because she was short with him. 

Just as he’s about to get up and make his exit, with some lame excuse about studio time, a young woman in a white coat appears and calls Tess’s name. A soft, trembling hand - the first time he’s held it, but he pushes that thought to the back of his mind for later - grasps his as the vet makes her way over. Finally, something to do, however small. 

The vet’s face doesn’t give anything away and in the short time before she gets to them, it dawns on Matty that the news may not be good. When he’d decided to come here, he was picturing her throwing herself at him out of relief and gratitude that he was there and with an update that Dale was already better. Selfish – the word ricochets across his mind. He hadn’t really stopped to ponder that it could be bad news. Or the worst. Should he really be the person there when she found out her dog died?! Did they have that kind of relationship? 

Before he can overthink it – well, overthink it any more than he already has – the vet is in front of them. “Here for Dale?” Dr. Sheldon, according to her badge, smiles and Tess’s grip relaxes just a little bit. So does his own. Surely, a smile is a good sign.

“Well, umm, he clearly ingested something but he’s stable” Matty squeezes Tess’s hand, cautiously optimistic. “He’s a fighter. And a real charmer, got the ladies eating right out of his paw.”

Matty has to physically hold back an eye roll. Is this really the time for jokes?

“We’re going to keep him overnight for observation but if things continue to improve, he should be able to go home tomorrow.” At those words, Tess sags against him in relief, as if the anxiety had been keeping her upright. Caught off guard, Matty’s fingers slip over her waste, pulling her to him to steady her. Smiling and accepting her impromptu hug of gratitude, the doctor mentions that someone will be out with some paperwork before turning to leave. 

Sagging back into their chairs, Matty notices a single tear rolling down her face. On instinct, he brings his hand up to her cheek, just barely grazing it as he catches the tear with his index finger and swipes it away. Their knees brush as she shifts in front of him and her gaze locks with his for a split second before she’s glancing away toward the front desk.

“Thanks for being here” she says finally, her green eyes - so unlike his own - glistening back at him. Not for the first time he’s struck by how beautiful she is - Jesus Healy not the time! And definitely not the place. While the couple of days in New York definitely clarified his interest in her - strong enough that he’d ignored a booty call from a regular hookup while there - but he still felt conflicted about fucking up his only friendship in town. (Don’t shit where you eat the sound engineer at the studio had said the other day and while a vile image, it was effective). The album had been moving at a weird place and he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be here - could be weeks, could be months.

“Don’t mention it.” A sudden feeling of foolishness washes over him, embarrassment that he made such a big deal out of this by coming down here when Dale is going to be just fine. This feels like he’s put his heart on his sleeve in a way he didn’t intend to. Not even her friends came, and here he is rushing down to her like he’s got a claim to. 

But then he’s driving her home (“my hands are too shaky”) and heating up soup and sitting on the floor in front of the couch watching a movie because the house had seemed too quiet to her. 

And then just as she’s losing the battle with sleep, cocooned in Dale’s favorite blanket, she whispers “I’m glad you were there today…” 

It’s a sucker punch, all the air pushed from his chest and replaced with a flush of warmth that spreads to the tips of his fingers, his toes, into his goddamn hair follicles. Fuck. 

“Me too…” 

[reverend-dog]

Quills

Janice sprinted for the bus, and skipped up the step just before the doors shut. The driver paid her no attention; of course not, in their line of work they confronted the oddest forms of humanity every day. None of her fellow passengers appeared to stare or make any comment either. Janice chose an open seat and random and sat. Only a matter time, she thought.

“It’s none of my business,” a voice spoke over her shoulder, “but you’re not doing yourself any favors.”

There it is.

Janice turned in her seat. The man’s face described decades spent in the elements, liver spots like town markers. Snowy whiskers hid in the deeper wrinkles, too deep for a razor to reach. Cloud-colored eyes peered from behind horn-rimmed glasses, and his baseball cap claimed veteran status.

“Excuse me?” Janice asked from reflex.

“Your hair.” The man waved a hand that might once have boasted muscle, but now hung with slack skin. “I mean, I get you wanna make a statement, but I hope you didn’t pay too much for that do, and I sure wouldn’t go back to that barber. You’re a pretty girl and that’s a real nice outfit, but --” He waved his hand in the general direction of Janice’s scalp again. “Pardon me for saying it looks like you got a porcupine on your head!”

The criticism fell like hail. Nearby conversations died, and people stared as if the man’s words gave them permission to stop pretending. Janice huddled in her seat, shoulders hunched, and dipped her head. What had she expected? Her scalp tightened, and she felt a rustling.

Should have stayed home, she chided herself. Called in sick. ‘Sorry, can’t make it in today. My hair’s turned into quills.’

“Now, hey,” the man continued, “I’m not trying to make you feel bad. Just maybe you wanna give these things a bit more thought in the future, you know?”

The non-apology stung worse than the critique, moreso because of the injustice of his assumption. Janice hadn’t asked for this. She just wanted to live her life, certainly didn’t want to be the center of attention. Why or how she woke up like this defied explanation. I would have stayed home, except for that stupid, mandatory all-hands meeting!

And now here was Mr. All-American Senior Citizen White Male Privilege, with his assumption that everybody needed and were eager to receive his ineffable wisdom.

Janice’s throat worked, and words forced themselves out without her will. “Nobody asked you.”

The man reared back, indignation flowing through his wrinkles. “Well!” he exclaimed. “If you’re gonna be that way about it --”

Janice sprang from her seat. Her quills sprang out and forward around her face. She loomed over the man. “Yes,” she told him, “I am going to be that way about it! ‘It’s none of my business,’” she mimicked his earlier tone, “so why did you make it your business? How I choose to dress or style my – hair doesn’t affect you in the least, so the least you could do is ask if I want your opinion! Consent, get it?”

Silence reigned on the bus. Janice realized how many pairs of eyes were trained on her, and also saw a few phones pointed her direction. She wondered what sort of spectacle she presented, quills erect. Freak? Is that what people were thinking?

The old man regained himself, Boomer indignation coming to the fore. He stood up and stuck out an admonishing finger, ready to put Janice in her place.

Thap!

Something colorful, hard, and fast bounced off the old man’s head, sending his veteran’s cap flying. Eyes snapped toward the back of the bus, where a slight, stooped woman stood, throwing hand extended, bare foot balanced on her toes, the rest of her weight on her cane. She wagged a finger at the man.

“Callate!” she commanded. “Siddown! She no bother you, you essteeffyou!”

The bus erupted in laughter. The old man fumed as he bent to retrieve his hat, and resumed his seat, unable to respond to an undeniable senior. Another passenger fetched the abuelita’s chancla, while the old woman blessed Janice with a smile and a benedictive wave.

Janice felt her quills lay down along her skull as she resumed her own seat. A warm glow lived in her chest. I’m ready, she declared to herself. Bring it on, world!

[orangeispice]

I would love to know ANYTHING you can tell me about this:

Please and thank you? :3c 💕

omg!! it's still a WIP for now but hopefully i am cooking

this is basically my attempt to write something set post-gang war

i'm a petermj shipper first and foremost but editorial's ongoing mischaracterization of them as a couple has put me off of writing anything for them at the moment

For a while now, randy has been a pretty important part of peter's supporting cast, and I'd even argue that with Harry out of the picture, Flash doing his own thing, and Johnny too busy growing that ugly af mustache, Peter and Randy have definitely hung out a ton. Hell, Randy made Peter his best man, so I'd even go so far as to say they're best friends.

So, post-gang war, Peter is on friendly terms with his superhero colleagues, mending his friendship with MJ and trying to be a better mentor for Miles.

Randy is struggling in the midst of the sudden breakup with Janice. Seeing as no one came to his bachelor party, aside from Peter, it wouldn't be far off to assume that he and Peter don't run in exactly the same friend circles; I'd say his closest friends are probably Peter, Glory Grant, and Norah Winters. Maybe Betty, but she has a baby right now...with Ned fucking Leeds💀.

ahem.

Randy and Peter hook up and get into a friends-with-benefits kind of thing. I like to think that Randy always had a thing for Peter that he didn't really read too much into because everyone he knew simped for Peter so he thought it really wasn't that deep.

Peter, on the other hand, is kind of put-off at the thought of getting into a relationship, given his shit record of his romantic life. Also, he may have realized during the time he was in a coma that he had feelings for Randy.

I love Janice to death, which is why I really don't want to demonize her while writing this, so I want to have her and Randy reconcile in some way by the end of the fic.

Also, it is very important to me that throughout the story, Robbie Robertson is very suspiciously glaring at Peter like: DID YOU FUCK MY SON, SPIDER-MAN???

Also, Robbie definitely cares for Peter as a sort of younger mentee, but he's flawed in the sense that he's very protective of Randy--as we can see with him not approving of Janice, and he had some problems with Randy's ex-wife, Amanda. So he's very skeptical as to if Peter will be able to protect his son, and understandably so.

(robbie definitely knows peter is spider-man)

(whenever jonah, robbie and ben urich have their monthly old men yaoi hookup they all think the other two don't know that peter is spider-man and it's really funny)

(miles is definitely making fun of peter in the background as all this plot goes down)

Since I've been rambling for a while I'm going to finish off with some evidence to back this pairing:

*images are not loading so bear with me lol*

There are definitely also a bunch of shippy moments from the older comics, these are just the ones from the current run

:D

[julesthoughts]

Before The Lies

Chapter 8

A/N: "Before the Lies" is the prequel to "Trap of Lies" started by @babeczka415. You can find the other chapters here.

Each chapter is written by these amazing writers: @babeczka415, @paigenoelchas-blog, @duskwoodgirl4life, @raemae17

⚠️Warning: prostitution, murder, drugs and alcohol ⚠️

She walked the foggy streets with a heart as heavy as lead. She was alone and her instincts were all screaming to turn around and call off the mission. Everything in her resisted this operation, but she ignored it. She kept walking in the direction of her destination, the lair of a disgusting man who only spreaded injustice. A wind blew through the wet trees and the rain broke from the leaves and fell down on Janice, causing goose bumps on her skin. She may be the best of the White Nights, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t terrified , at the end of the day she was only human. That fear in her threatened to break out, but she squashed it like a beetle under her shoe. She kept walking, with a false confidence in her stride that she didn’t feel, when a fox chasing a mouse ran across the path bringing her stumbling to a halt.  

She sighed and spoke to herself, "Even nature tries to stop me."

Just as her instincts were winning her internal battle, a shot rang out from far away. The fox from earlier ran timorously back into his hiding place and whimpered softly. Janice turned to face the shot and saw a thousand birds flee the area from the trees. All the birds fled from the horrific event. She shook herself and started walking again. Again and again she was stopped, whether it was by a wild animal living out its nightlife or whether it was a branch that fell to the ground. 

Mother nature didn't want her to go there.

"I have to do this! Please understand that!" she whispered into the wind. She didn't know who she was speaking to, whether it was nature, the universe, or her own mind. She only knew one thing, she was alone. She felt almost lost, knowing she might not  come back to her beloved son, Jake. She turned around one last time to take a look at her hometown. 

Duskwood.

There was nowhere to hide, as the city lights burned.

That's why the villains' hideouts were never found in the city. It would be far too easy to find them there. 

Another shot rang out, and by reflex she reached into the slit on the right side of her skirt and felt her gun under her garter. If Arthur found out that she stole his gun for this mission, no, he wouldn't find out. In fact, she knew she probably wouldn't need a gun at all, but that wasn't why she stole it. 

She wanted something of him with her.

From Arthur.

So she wouldn't feel completely lost and alone. 

She listened to the rush of water from the river beside her to steady her mind. The owls sang their songs and she listened to them with a smile as she walked on with firm steps. After she finally got rid of all negative feelings she went on.

What was she willing to lose?

She covered her wounds from the past, but underneath them a million voices in her head screamed, "Stop, now!" but she didn't listen. She tore herself from her peaceful life for this mission. She left all the thoughts for her loved ones at home so she could focus on the mission alone. 

She came closer and closer to the unfamiliar building. With a pounding heart, she entered her enemy's territory and climbed over the fence that surrounded  a cozy brown shack. Before attempting to enter the cabin, she snuck  a look around the property. 

At the entrance hung a wall lamp, in which a candle was close guttering out. The walls were very dark wood and ivy snaked up one of the square windows. In the reflection of a window she saw a flame blazing from a nearly burned out candle. To the right of the building were several carriages with horses. 

This was no ordinary bar. 

This was a whorehouse.

In the backyard, she heard two men arguing loudly.

"Why did you shoot her twice?"

"She was pregnant by me! You know what happens to married men who sleep with a prostitute!"

"Maybe you should have just held back, you miserable bastard! And how could you be so sure that she's pregnant by you, huh?"

"She was new here and I was her first guest."

"You are disgusting! Cheating on your loyal wife who would die for you. You should be punished with death!"

The man drew a pistol and pointed it at the married man. Janice decided to move from the scene. She had to concentrate. Just as she was about to enter the bar, a shot sounded, goosebumps spread over her skin. The poor woman had to die because of this disgusting man's horniness. She shook her head, said an inward prayer for the poor woman, and finally entered the bar.

Arriving at the bar, she heard the moaning of different women from different little rooms. No one seemed to mind, which was no wonder given how drunk all the men here were. She saw a man paying a prostitute, before they disappeared into a back room. 

It wasn't long before she was approached by a man. He offered her money and wanted to satisfy himself on her. He held out money to her and, not waiting, started kissing her neck. When she took the money from him, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a side room. He smelled of drugs, alcohol, and his eyes were slightly red. He was an easy target and she would pound him with questions.

As he locked the door behind him with the key, he turned to Janice, pushed her onto the bed behind her and climbed on top of her. He kissed her all over and ran his hand up her skirt, but faltered when he felt her garter and the gun on it.

"You are not a whore," he stated, looking at her with wide eyes.

"You guessed it, and now I want answers," she ordered while he was still lounging on her body. He didn't move, forcing her to bang her head against his. While both moaned in pain, she didn't let it stop her for long and kicked his crotch hard. He pulled away from her and jumped up, clutching his hand to his crotch, hissing in pain. She stood up, taking advantage of his vulnerability and flipped his body over with his back to the bed and kicked him in the stomach, dropping him onto the bed. She immediately mounted him and squeezed his hands under her knees while he pressed his lip tightly up in pain. She smiled softly at him and he swallowed hard, realizing his situation.

"First question, what kind of wine did you drink?"

"Wha- Why are you asking me such a weird question?"

"Answer me," she commanded. 

"Red wine!" He blurted out.

"There you go, very simple. Next question, what drugs did you take?"

"I didn't do drugs!"

She laughed mockingly. "Oh my dear, you can smell from miles away that you've been on drugs. So, I'm listening!"

"Who the hell are you?"

"None of your business. Answer me."

"I can't believe I'm asking this, but will you sleep with me in exchange for answers?" He asked.

She smiled softly at him. "But of course." She kissed him as a promise, he hummed deeply.

"Fine." He sighed. "It was the drug Madak. Happy now?"

"Not quite yet. Who are the drugs from?"

"By God's blood, I can't answer this!"

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know!"

She eyed him critically and noticed that he was only telling half the truth. She put her right hand around his neck, squeezing and getting closer to his face, so close that she could feel his disgusting breath. She heard him swallow hard and knew he was scared.

"You better tell me what you know."

"What if I don't?" He asked with a smug look on his face.

She squeezed his neck so tight that he couldn't breathe at all. His eyes flickered, but just before he could pass out, she let go. 

"Again?" she asked.

He shook his head in panic while coughing and gasping for air miserably. After an eternity, he was breathing normally again, but still coughing occasionally. 

"Answer my question right now."

"I bought it from a strange man near the wharf. I really don't know more!"

"Good." She smiled. "Any last words?"

"What is with our deal? I will give you answers in exchange for sex with you!" 

"I don't remember signing anything. I feel sorry for your wife." She glanced at his hand, which was wearing a wedding ring on his ring finger. "But if she hears that your body was found in a whorehouse, she won't care."

"I am so sorry Cecilia," he sobbed. 

"Too late, darling." She choked him with both hands and put a pillow on his face.  She finally felt him collapse lifeless under her. She climbed down from him and searched him for money, taking it.  He wouldn’t be needing it any more. 

She heard voices from outside the door. Apparently the owner of the bar found this room too quiet. Janice ran to the window, opened it in no time and climbed out. When her shoes sounded on the wood of the terrace, she immediately ran to the other side of the yard where the horses and carriages were standing. She freed one of the horses from its carriage, climbed into the saddle and rode into the night, letting the darkness swallow her.

Panic broke out in the bar because Janice had murdered a corrupt businessman without knowing it. There was no trace of Janice. The last thing the bar owner heard was the horse's hooves on the gravel.

-----------------------

Janice rode through meadows, fields, gravel roads to finally arrive at her destination. The Wharfs. She got off the horse and miraculously the horse stayed for her. Janice was just good with animals and apparently she had already found a new friend.  She gave the horse an apple from a nearby apple tree, stroked its muzzle, and said goodbye. 

As she ran down the slope to the docks, she already heard several voices. She crept behind a large wooden trestle, crouching on the damp ground as she listened.

"Is this seriously everything you got for me?" A deep male voice asked heatedly. 

"I'm sorry, but you're not the only one buying from me."

"You can not be serious."

"I am serious,” he said in a calm but menacing tone.

"Next time you'll give me double!" He almost yelled.

A large fist came crashing down on the box behind which Janice was hiding. She flinched, but quickly gathered herself and regulated her breathing again. She couldn't allow herself to lose control now. She took a quiet deep breath and closed her eyes for a second to steady her pulse. Seconds later she heard the deep voice that seemed to belong to the boss again.

"Do you have any of  the latest drug, at least?"

"Yes, the drug to make someone unconscious."

"Very good. That will help me with some problems," the boss almost cheered.

Suddenly there was an awkward silence. So awkward it was almost dangerous. She heard the seller slip away and quietly ride his horse away. After the horse's hooves had stopped in the distance, only the splashing of water could be heard. Normally she would love and enjoy that sound, but right now there was no time to relax. A man came running down the slope with a hand signal that shocked the boss. 

When Janice tilted her head back, she saw the boss's chin. He stood directly in front of the box and looked towards the slope. She pressed even more against the heavy box and made herself as small as possible, not moving an inch. She even stopped breathing. Her situation worsened when the man finally told the boss what was going on.

"We found a carriage horse up the hill, but without a carriage. The pairs of lines were cut. We're assuming someone stole the horse to get here."

"This is not good. Keep your eyes open!" He kicked the box, making Janice flinch again. 

Just as he was about to look down, something distracted his attention and he walked away from the box. She exhaled in relief and snuck deeper into enemy territory to eavesdrop. 

Her heart was pounding in her chest, so loud she feared everyone would hear. 

"Angus what the hell are you doing here?" The boss asked.

Angus…

Jake's father…

What was he doing here?

Those were the thoughts that flew through her head. She felt the tears pool in her eyes and silently ran down her cheeks. He had lied to her. Angus lied to her. She thought he had always been honest with her, but she seemed to have been wrong. Everything she had suppressed on her way here overflowed like a full keg and big tears fell on the floor. Even though the two were no longer together, it hurt to know that he lied to her without batting an eyelid. 

No matter how hard she fought against it, her heart ached. She loved someone new now, but their love was forbidden. She didn't love Angus anymore, but it still hurt her. 

She let her emotions control her and made a fatal mistake.

"Angus…" She whispered loud enough for everyone to hear it.

The man in question snapped his head at her, eyes wide and a flash of concern. He still loved her, his eyes gave him away. Angus' heart was beating fast and burning tears pooled in his eyes, but he blinked them away. Unfortunately, the boss noticed that his eyes were directed elsewhere. 

The boss turned and caught her eye. He saw her and she saw him. Angus was like a copy of him. The jet black hair, those piercing blue eyes and that damn sharp jaw. 

Without a doubt this man was Angus' father.